it's all worth the fight (when it's you, dear)
by Tarafina
Summary: A 50-chapter story of unconnected Bonnie/Damon oneshots based on various sentence prompts. [chapter 21]: "Love isn't half my motivation. It's all of my motivation. With the occasional revenge-driven plot thrown in to spice things up."
1. no rules, no limits, no guilt

**title**: no rules, no limits, no guilt  
**series**: it's all worth the fight (when it's you, dear)  
**category**: vampire diaries (tv)  
**genre**: angst/romance  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: high-teen  
**word count**: 2,175  
**prompt**: "Come over here and make me." – **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: (set in 1994 prison world) Damon encourages Bonnie to stop living life by the rules which leads to exploring the tension between them for one night only.

**_no rules, no limits, no guilt_**  
-1/1-

"Bonnie… I'm serious," he complained, frowning at her from where she sat, perched atop the dining room table, while he was left in the bed of pillows she'd made in front of the fire. "You can't hoard all of the good stuff. I don't want to go back to the store. Now give it! Share with Damon!" He waved his hand demandingly at her, but she merely shook her head, tipping the bottle back for a sip. "Great, now you're getting all your witch cooties on it."

Coughing a little, she wiped the back of her mouth and reminded him in a strained voice, "I'm not a witch anymore."

"_Fine_. Your Bennett cooties. Whatever. Just share with me."

Placing the bottle in her lap, she shrugged. "This is what you get for cheating."

"I wasn't cheating. I was… raising my odds of winning."

She glared at him. "By stealing money from the bank. See! This is why you're not supposed to run the bank."

Damon rolled his eyes, making a 'talking' motion with his hand. "Every game you have something I'm not allowed to do."

"Yes, because you _cheat!_"

"I can't be blamed for thinking outside of the box," he defended, rolling onto his side, head propped on his hand. "You know why you're mad? Because you _always _play by the rules."

Bonnie shook her head, affronted. "A) No, I don't. I think the entire time I've _known _you can attest to that. And B) even if I did, what's wrong with playing by the rules?"

"Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie…" he sighed, clucking his tongue at her. "The only times you _didn't_ play buzzkill were when you were _forced_. Or when you were manipulated into going semi-evil, but that's totally different. And the problem? Come on. It's obvious…"

She stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "Then please, share with the class." She waved the bottle around to their empty surroundings.

He smirked at her knowingly. "The one who plays by the rules never really wins. It's the equivalent of nice guys finish last. You'll always stay in the box, play it safe, do the right thing, and get the short end of the stick, every single time. And you know why? Because you never push back. You never force the world to give you better."

"That's not true!" she told him, raising her voice. "Just because I play by the rules doesn't mean I'll lose. It means I won't feel guilty about it when I get what I want the right way. Through hard work and dedication and by not giving up who I am and what I value."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "And what's that gotten you so far? Huh? You died for your friends, for your little boyfriend, and now you're stuck here, with me, one of your least favorite people. Not that you should be complaining, you could do a _lot _worse. _But_, the point is, none of them are coming to save you, you've got _no _magic, and the only thing you get to complain about, as you so like to do, is that I cheat at the outdated board games we play to pass our time in misery." His smile was empty as his mouth stretched for her. "So please, tell me what you've gained from being good and righteous and judgy to the core."

Bonnie stared at him, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. A beat passed, tense and thick. Between gritted teeth, she told him, "Take it back."

Damon's eyes narrowed. "Come over here and make me."

Bonnie swallowed thickly, contemplating him and his words and the situation they were in. And then, slowly, she placed the bottle of bourbon aside, a clink filling the silence as glass met the table. She unfolded her legs and pushed herself off the table, walking toward him slowly, watching the firelight play over his features as he laid on the bed of pillows. She stood at the edges, her hands opening and closing in helpless fists.

She could have asked what he meant. She could've called him a few choice names and stomped off. She could've stolen the good bourbon and escaped to her own house or to her Grams or even just to the room upstairs that she spent fewer and fewer nights in. Most nights, she fell asleep right here, curled up beside him, a throw blanket laid across her at some point in the middle of the night. She never asked, but she knew it was him. It could only _be_ him; there was no one else stuck in this prison world with them. So at some point during the night, he went out of his way to find a blanket and tuck the frayed edges in around her to keep her warm. Because in a way only Damon could, he cared. He cared about whether or not she ate or slept or stayed warm. Even when they were fighting, when they were sick and tired of being the only other people to talk to, he cared. So she spent less and less time in her room or away from him and more and more time within reach. And at time, she fell asleep listening to steady sound of his breathing, watching firelight dance across his face. When she woke in the morning, sometimes she'd find his sleeping face just inches from hers, finally at peace, and other times she would find him already in the kitchen, making more of those hideous pancakes he loved so much.

She could have, maybe _should_ have, let this _'_thing' between them go unanswered. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was always there; waiting, building. Maybe it was nothing at all and she was just reading into it.

But as he stared up at her, sprawled out on his back now, his hand atop his chest, long fingers stretched over his heart, she found herself stepping onto the pillows, kneeling on them, just inches away from him. Damon had always been attractive in a devil-may-care way. Never the type she saw herself going for. She'd expected someone sweet and kind and gentle, someone with morals and limitations and rules he would never break. Damon was not that. He was possibly never that, and she couldn't see him changing any time soon. But there were times where she liked that, even envied it. His lack of restraint, his ease at taking life as it came at him and taking from it what he wanted, discarding the rest. Her father raised her to be someone who saw an obstacle and fought through it, someone who met a challenge with strength and integrity. Not someone who found ways around it, but who worked to overcome it. But there were times when she wished she didn't have to be so unyielding; where she wished that her hard work was rewarded better; where she wondered when all of her sacrifice might pay off.

Damon watched her, his eyes searching her face as she bit her lip, knelt down, and leaned over him, putting a hand to the pillow just to the right of his shoulder. It gave under the pressure, feather-insides bowing under her hand, and she moved closer, slowly, looking back at him with that same searching gaze. She waited for him to flinch or pull away or laugh in her face, but he didn't. He simply waited. He let her move as she wanted to, let her linger and hesitate and talk herself in and out of whatever it was she was doing. What _was _she doing? Coming or going. Winning or losing. Playing fair or cheating.

"What are the rules?" she asked him, leaning her face down, so they were just close enough that she could feel his cool breath on her lips, some of her hair falling to tickle his cheek.

"Keep your distance."

She lowered her face a little more, let the tip of her nose brush against his.

"Don't touch."

Her free hand slid over his chest, her thumb playing with a button on his plaid shirt.

His voice became a little thicker, heavier, "No kissing."

He hummed as her mouth slanted over his, let out a panting breath as their mouths parted and her tongue flicked the underside of his top lip.

"_Definitely _no kissing," he rasped, raising his head to meet her mouth once more, sucking on her bottom lip, his teeth tugging gently.

Bonnie slid a leg over his waist, her knee at his hip, and her body hovering atop his. She moved her hand from the pillow, tucking it in his hair, tangling it around her fingers. His hands found her hips and brought them down to meet his own, her body rocking against him, their stomachs and chests rubbing together. Her hand fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, pulling them apart, giving the fabric a yank until his shirt opened completely. His fingers found the bottom of her tank top and pulled it up, stretching it over her head and throwing it away.

"Lots of clothes. Always clothes," he muttered against her mouth. His hand slid between them, cradling her breast, a thumb stroking around her nipple. "And bras," he groaned. "So many bras."

She laughed lightly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and she felt him smile, the stretch of his mouth not into a grin or a smirk but a real, genuine, soft smile.

And then she paused. She stopped and she opened her eyes and she stared down at him, lit up by fire and dressed in shadows. Damon. Damon who was Elena's. Damon who was her enemy? Frenemy? Something of that variety. Damon who cheated at literally every game they played and who goaded her into arguments when he was bored and who enjoyed getting on every single one of her nerves. Damon who she should not be kissing or touching or rubbing herself against like a cat in heat. And yet… here she was. Breaking those rules. Putting aside loyalties to friends she'd known her whole life. Ignoring the very real fact that this could end in complete and utter disaster.

"And thinking. Lots of thinking," he said. "That's a big one. Smart, logical, self-sacrificing thinking." He stared at her searchingly.

She stared back at him, caught between who she thought she should be, who she was, maybe, and what she wanted, _who _she wanted.

"One night," she whispered, like saying it too loudly could ruin everything, could break that tentative openness between them. "One night where there are no rules or expectations or other people." She brought her hand down from his hair, cradled his face in her palm, let her thumb trace the curve of his mouth as the tops of her fingers hinged on the sharp angle of his cheek. "And then we don't talk about it and we don't do it again and we don't throw it in each other's faces. _Ever_. Okay?"

Maybe it was a cop out, maybe it was complete and utter denial, and maybe it was foolish to believe it could actually work, but she was willing to lie to herself if that was what it took.

"One night," he said, stretching a hand up her back, his fingers softly skittering over her skin as they reached the nape of her neck, twisting her hair around them. He drew her down, their mouths just an inch apart. "Okay."

She could have clarified, could have pushed the singularity and secrecy of it, but at this point, with his mouth moving over hers, she didn't much care. She let him turn them over, watched his head duck down, dark hair messy from her fingers, his lips smoothing down her body, the paleness of his skin in stark contrast to her own. She watched him, leaned up into his mouth and his hands, and she let herself go. Let herself loose from the ties of responsibility, of right and wrong, of loyalty. She let herself free and she felt him catch her.

Maybe the landing later would hurt, when reality smacked her in the face come morning. Or maybe it wouldn't. What she knew was that it felt good _now_. And maybe, in the universe's own twisted way, this was her payback, this was her return for being so good and moral and sacrificial. Maybe this was as close to peace and happiness as she would ever get, layered in pancakes and snark and bourbon and fireside pillow beds. Damon wasn't perfect, he wasn't the moral prince she'd once thought would share her life with her, he was the dark horse to her white knight and maybe all they would have was one moment, one night, in an afterlife of isolation. Stripped of their clothes, cradling him in her legs, leaning up into his kiss as his mouth hovered over hers and his eyes met hers, she decided she would take it. The good, the bad, the questionable; she would take all of it.

* * *

**author's note**: _so, this is a oneshot. it will likely not be continued unless a future sentence fits with this 'verse. this whole story will be 50 chapters of oneshots to fit with a list of sentence prompts found on Tumblr. _

_i hope you liked this one as much as i enjoyed writing it. _

_thanks so much for reading. please try to leave a review; they're my lifeblood!_

\- **lee | fina**


	2. i just wanna be (by your side)

**title**: I just wanna be (by your side)  
**series**: it's all worth the fight (when it's you, dear)  
**category**: vampire diaries (tv)  
**genre**: angst/romance  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 3,051  
**prompt**: "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while…"– **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: [post 1994] Damon is tired of Bonnie avoiding him, but when he finds out why, it leads to a confession of more than friendly feelings.

**_I just wanna be (by your side)_**  
-1/1-

Damon dragged a hand over the cave wall, waving a flashlight in his free hand and whistling to himself, unperturbed by the situation completely. "Well, looks like we'll be trapped for a while…" He glanced back at her, brows hiked. "I don't know about you, but I didn't exactly leave a 'come look for me in the old, creepy cave in the woods if I'm not back in an hour' note for little brother to find."

Arms crossed, Bonnie glared at him. "Neither did I. Maybe because I wasn't _planning _on going to the old, creepy cave in the woods and was basically _tricked _into being here in the first place."

Rolling his eyes, he said, "You know, Bon-Bon, I'm trying not to take it too personally, but you've been avoiding me for _weeks _now. Can you blame a guy for just trying to spend some time with his former prison mate?"

She laughed incredulously. "I'm sure I can blame him for a lot of things, not the least of which is getting me stuck in this _cave!_"

"Okay, well, that wasn't what I had planned." He shrugged. "I just thought we could do something together, you know, without the Scooby Gang around."

Kicking at the cave wall irritably, she grumbled, "If you wanted to spend time together, you could've texted me about getting together for brunch. _Instead_, you told me you needed me to see something and then led me into a trap!" She waved her phone around angrily. "Which, by the way, has literally _no _cell service."

"I don't eat_ brunch_, Bonnie!" he exclaimed, frowning. "And I didn't _know _the cave was booby-trapped when I brought you down here. It wasn't like this when we were in 1994, and when I found the way in, I thought it might, I don't knock, kick jump this rescue plan with my mom." He waved his hands around. "If I'd known it had witchy juju all over it, I would've taken a few more precautions. As it is, _you _are the resident witch, so shouldn't you know a way out for us?"

Bonnie scoffed. "I didn't exactly bring along Grams' grimoire when you called and I haven't been spending a lot of time researching anti-barrier spells. To be honest, I was really hoping to avoid anything like this again. We don't exactly have a good history with caves, _Damon_!"

Sighing, he tipped his head back and rolled his eyes cross-eyed. "All right, point made. But just so we're clear, we wouldn't be in this situation if a certain little witch would stop avoiding my texts!"

"I started avoiding them because the last three times you said it was an emergency, you were lying."

"Running out of bourbon and pancake mix _is _an emergency," he defended, his brows furrowed.

"And the third time? When you said you were, and I quote, 'dying of boredom, Bon-Bon, _amuse _me.'"

He shrugged. "It felt like I was at the time..."

"Ugh. I can't even talk to you right now." Waving a hand, she turned on her heel and marched away from him, using the light of her phone to guide her through the endless tunnels of the cave, all of which would only end up leading her right back to him, as the spell was designed, but as long as he was out of sight for a few minutes, she could find somewhere to hunker down and take a breather.

Of course, she got all of twelve steps from him before he started following.

"Hey, did you ever think _maybe _those emergency calls were just to get your attention? Something I've been _sorely _lacking for the last few weeks, might I add…" When she said nothing, he hurried forward to so they were in step with one another. "All right, fine, you want an apology for getting us stuck down here, then yes, sure, I'm deeply sorry that I didn't research the cave before I talked you into coming down here and essentially getting us stuck in the bowels of Mystic Falls hell. Feel better?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Slightly."

"Good. Now can we talk about why it takes an emergency text in the first place to get any face time with you?" His brows arched abruptly. "Used to be we couldn't go without texting or calling every few hours, but now it's like you can't get away from me fast enough…" His mouth turned down for a moment before he forced a smirk. His voice, though he tried to disguise it, was layered with hurt. "What happened to missing me?"

Bonnie paused, turning her gaze forward and biting down on her lip. "I've just been busy. It's been… different, trying to get used to things. There's a lot going on and it's been hard and weird and… I don't know."

He hummed, but stayed quiet a long, awkward moment. There was nothing but the dirt and gravel underfoot as they continued to walk endless circles.

"How's that going anyway?" he finally wondered. "Your return to the living, I mean."

Bonnie glanced at him and shrugged. "All right, I guess. Caroline's finally back to normal. If depressed and guilty is really normal…"

"Stefan's pretty much got that handled, I think. He can probably give her a few pointers on how to do it better."

She let out a faint snort, her mouth turning up at the corners. "He's not _that _bad."

"He's _worse_." He grinned at her, and then leaned over, bumping her shoulder with his. "C'mon, admit it…"

"What? That Stefan broods?" Her brows raised. "I don't think anybody will argue that."

"No. This. _Us_. You missed it." He stood a little taller then, his chin raised as he smirked.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, even as her mouth twitched with a smile. "Ask me again when we're not trapped in a cave."

Turning on his heel, Damon started walking backwards, grinning at her. "I dunno, Bon-Bon, you've gotta admit, getting trapped together did wonders for us before."

Bonnie smiled, her mouth parting for a snarky rebuttal. But then she stopped herself, came to a halt, and narrowed her eyes. "_Damon_…"

He stopped, his face suddenly going blank, as if he knew exactly what her tone meant. "Yeees…?"

One of her hands found her hip. "Did you do this on _purpose?_"

Brow furrowed, he sucked in a breath and said, "Define '_on purpose_.'"

"_Damon! _Did you bring me down here _knowing _we wouldn't be able to get out?"

He winced. "Kind of…" he admitted.

Letting out a loud groan, she kicked dirt at him. "You _jerk! _What were you _thinking?_"

His face screwed up defensively. "I was thinking you were avoiding me and I didn't _like _it! Look, you can give all the excuses you want about just adjusting to regular life, but face the facts, you weren't taking my calls or coming over, and last week, when I suggested we play Monopoly, what did you say?"

She shook her head at him, her eyes wide. "I said I was busy, because I _was!_"

"Exactly!" He pointed at her accusingly. "But Monopoly is your favorite because it's the only one you usually win at. Mostly because I can't sit still for that long."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she scoffed, "More like, because I don't let you be _banker_ anymore."

"_See!_"

Rolling her eyes, she raised her shoulders. "So what? So I didn't want to play Monopoly _one _time..."

"It's just one piece in a much bigger puzzle. One that proves you are being an avoid-y avoider!"

"You're being ridiculous!"

"And _you're_ being a shitty friend!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to _be _your friend!" she exclaimed.

"Well—" He paused, his eyes wide, and then he glanced away, swallowed, and said, "_Fine!_"

Bonnie closed her eyes as he turned on his heel to walk away. Taking a deep breath, she let it out on a sigh and said, "You're just going to end up right back where you started." Opening her eyes, she started after him, following at a slight distance.

"No, I won't," he muttered, feeling along the wall. "I made Semi-Sane-Parker put a safety measure into the spell. There's a loose rock that will get us out of here."

"A loose rock… in a cave made of _rock_…" She raised an eyebrow. _"That's _your way out?"

"_Yup_," he answered dismissively.

Shaking her head, she watched him reach all over, kneeling and pulling on any loose piece of wall he could find. "Damon…"

He didn't answer.

"Damon, I didn't _mean_—"

"Not hard to figure out what you meant, Bonnie. You were pretty clear." He offered a humorless smile back at her before continuing to search around.

"No, I really wasn't." She turned her eyes upward, staring at the jagged ceiling and letting the light of her phone bounce around it. "When I said I didn't want to be your friend, I didn't mean I didn't like our friendship or I didn't like _you_. I just…" She swallowed tightly, blinking as her eyes burned. "I like you."

"Right. Sure. That's what everyone says. I _like_ you, but I don't want to be your _friend_. That's definitely international BFF-speak. My mistake."

"No, I mean I _like _you. As… _more _than a friend. I don't know when it started happening. Maybe back in the prison world, or after, when I was alone and I missed you _so much_. And when I got back, I just… You were the only person I wanted to see. The only person I could _think _of." Bonnie forcibly kept her eyes focused above. She didn't want to see his face; not the pity or the smugness or anything. "Then things settled down and we were home, and I thought, if we just spent some time apart, I could, I don't know, make it _stop _somehow. But then you kept calling and texting and I know this is awkward and weird and… I mean, we're not like Caroline and Stefan. We don't exactly have a great history. And you are completely in love with Elena and I… I would never get in the way of that. Not that I even _could_. I just… needed some space. I need some time to breathe and get used to life back in the real world where it's not just the two of us and where these _stupid _feelings can just go away. So _yes_, I've been avoiding you and I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings, but… I needed to look out for _my_ feelings for once. That's _it_."

He didn't answer, and she wasn't quite sure if that was a good or a bad sign. But then there was a click and suddenly she was blinking as light spilled forward and a wall that was once there was now gone, revealing the open landscape of the woods in front of her. Apparently he'd found that loose rock.

Turning off the flashlight on her phone, she tucked it back in her pocket and, without looking at him, quickly moved forward, out into the fresh air and light. She breathed in deep and let the sun warm her face. Not bothering to wait for him, she simply walked ahead, making her way down the beaten dirt path to where they'd left his car parked. She knew he was behind her, she could hear his footsteps, but he didn't say anything, and, for that, she was grateful. She didn't want the sarcastic jokes or the awkward let down. She didn't need to see his face as it twisted up with uncomfortable guilt. She just wanted to go home, bury her head in a bucket of ice cream, and forget any of this happened.

The chirping of birds and the rustling of foliage was all that surrounded them as Bonnie walked ahead, arms wrapped tight around herself, eyes burning as she blinked quickly, refusing to let him see her cry. God, this was so _stupid_. She never should have said anything. She never should've come along on this dumb expedition. She should have ignored his phone call just like all the others. But despite everything, despite knowing it would be so much better, and easier, for her if she would just _stop _feeling this way about him, she read all of his texts and listened to all of his exasperated, snarky messages, and she answered entirely too many of his phone calls. She let herself hold on to that feeling in the pit of her stomach and that warmth that spread over her chest and that easy, giddy way she smiled when she so much as heard his voice. And she knew it was a no-win situation, that he would never feel that way about her, especially when the competition was his epic love with Elena. And ugh, she wasn't even trying to make him choose or hoping that he would, because she would never, _ever_ do anything that would hurt Elena. Not on purpose. But… she couldn't change her heart. She couldn't force it to stop caring about him. All she could do was put some space between them, and maybe now that he understood why, he would let her.

When she finally reached his car, she let out a little sigh of relief and tucked her fingers under the handle of the passenger door. But just as she was about to pull it open, she was turned around, her back against the cold metal door and his body just inches from hers. He stared at her searchingly, his expression unusually serious. She waited for the characteristic smirk to break out and the 'of course you like me, who wouldn't?' to follow, but it didn't. Instead, he just stared, that intense look on his face, like he was trying to crack some huge mystery. And then he leaned down, his face so close that her heart started pounding in her chest. His nose brushed against hers and his mouth hovered so close she could feel it like a shadow on her skin.

"For the record… I don't chase down just anybody when they're avoiding me."

She stared up at him, letting out a faint squeak of a hum in reply.

"I don't know what this is. I don't know what it means that I _miss_ you all the time. And at first… At first, I could chalk it up to what happened in '94, you know? It was just us, and not having you around felt… _off_ and weird. But now… Even when we do spend time together, I want_ more_." His hand raised, palm cupped over her cheek. "I don't know where this is going. I have no idea what happens after this. For all I know, it blows up in our faces. And for the first time in my life, the idea that I might screw up is something I'm thinking about _before _I jump into it." He smiled faintly. "Because it's important, Bonnie, all right? _You _are important to me. And if we did this, if we went there, and it went _wrong_…"

She nodded, her eyes closed tight. "No. You're right. We shouldn't. We can't risk…"

When his lips touched her, rational thought sifted away. There were no 'what if's' or worries or fears. There was just the smooth touch of his mouth slanting over hers, the flick of his tongue over the seam, the cool graze of his fingers sliding down her cheek and along the side of her neck. She shivered, her mouth parting on a sigh, her brow knotted tightly as she leaned up, reaching for the cradle his mouth made. One of his hands buried at the nape of her neck while the fingertips of the other pressed lightly against the line of her jaw. The kiss was slow, searching, a careful and deliberately gentle exploration of what could be.

When it ended, he rested his forehead against hers, cool skin against warm, and the world around them went completely silent. For a moment, it was like they were back there, in their own private world, just the two of them. She could feel his breath bursting over her lips, his fingers tightening and loosening at her nape, and her heart beating quick and unsteady in her chest. She kept her eyes closed for a long, desperate minute, trying to hold on to the feeling of complete and utter contentment, and then she opened them, slowly, raising her gaze up to meet his.

She stared up into his eyes, bright and blue, and she waited, wondered, heart lodged in her throat. It could end here, right in this moment. They could get into his car and drive back to town, get something to eat, bury it all under snark and pointless arguments about nothing in particular. He could go back to Elena and she could spend some time on her own, figuring herself out, find out what she wanted with this new her. Or they could take that risk, want for more, see where this could take them, _together_.

When his mouth slowly curved up in an artless grin, she answered with a smile of her own.

"I know it's not fair, maybe it's not even _right_, and down the line, yes, we could absolutely screw it up and completely and totally regret it…" she admitted, nodding. "But I want this. I want _you_. And if you say no, if it's not what you want, I'll get it. It'll hurt, but I'll get it. And maybe in a few weeks we can go back to friendship, no questions asked, and hope for the best." Of course, it wouldn't be that simple; in fact, it would be hard and awkward and they may never be the same, but it was somewhere to start. "So I guess it's up to you. Probably the one and only time I leave something this big solely in your hands."

He laughed under his breath at that and stared down at her, his smile softening as he tucked her hair behind her ear affectionately. When he opened his mouth to answer her, she knew her life would never quite be the same. And she was okay with that.

[**end**.]


	3. I didn't know what I wanted

**title**: I didn't know what I wanted (but now I do)  
**series**: it's all worth the fight (when it's you, dear)  
**category**: vampire diaries (tv)  
**genre**: friendship/romance  
**ship**: caroline &amp; bonnie; bonnie/damon; caroline/stefan  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 2,686  
**prompt**: "No one needs to know."– **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Caroline and Bonnie get together for a much overdue girls' night where Bonnie's PTSD and very obvious feelings for Damon are discussed.

**_ I didn't know what I wanted (but now I do)_**  
-1/1-

"So, not that I'm complaining, but what exactly brought this on?" Caroline wondered, sitting cross-legged on the couch, a bottle of vodka in her lap.

"What? I need a _reason _for us to hang out now?" Bonnie replied, scooping out a large spoonful of ice cream. "Since when?"

Rolling her eyes, Caroline grinned at her. "_No_. But you have to admit, we don't exactly spend as much time together anymore. Ever since you got back, it's been like the…" Her nose scrunched, "Bonnie and Damon show. I have to pry him off with a crowbar if I want you all to myself."

"I think you're exaggerating a little, Care. We're just closer now." Her mouth twitched. "Prison does that to you."

Snorting, Caroline unscrewed the lid from the bottle and took a swig. "Yeah? Well send me and Stefan there next. Maybe that'll get rid of all this awkwardness."

"He feels guilty. He still blames himself for not telling you how he felt," Bonnie said softly.

"Well, it's not _about _him. Not really. I needed some time. I needed to _not _feel for a while. And yes, sure, maybe part of me thought if he _said _something it would've changed things, but… I don't know. It doesn't really matter. He didn't and I… went off the rails for a little while."

"Uh, a 'little' while? Try _six _months." Bonnie shook her head. "And you _wanted _a year."

"Yeah, well, what happens with your switch off shouldn't be held against you. It's like… Vegas rules or whatever."

"Really?" She raised an eyebrow. "'Cause I seem to remember you taking a lot of what Elena said and did when she had her flip switched pretty personally…"

"That's because she _made _it personal. I was just trying to have fun. I asked for _one _year and I wouldn't seriously hurt anyone. They couldn't give even give me a _day!_"

Bonnie shrugged. "He was worried about you. It's what we do when we love someone."

Caroline narrowed her eyes at her, lips pursed. "_Don't_."

"What? C'mon, you know it's true… Maybe he had a hard time putting it into words, but Stefan loves you."

"Mm-mm." Shaking her head, Caroline tipped the vodka back into her mouth. Licking her lips clean, she said, "Nope. We are not talking about his maybe, possibly, kind of love but not really feelings _at all_. Tonight is supposed to be about us, reconnecting, or getting drunk, somewhere in between, at least."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "I just think you should talk about it, that's all. You and Stefan aren't really talking and Elena's always busy with school these days. So… I'm here, if you want a sympathetic ear."

Caroline sighed, stared at her searchingly. "Fine. But if I talk, then so do you."

Frowning, she dug another bite of ice cream out. "Okay. What am I talking about then?"

"I don't know, Bon, maybe your PTSD from the prison world; you haven't talked about that like, _at all_. And don't think I haven't noticed. You flinch at loud noises, you don't let people touch you for very long, you smile to hide how uncomfortable you are around strangers…" Her expression tightened. "I don't know what it was like over there. Before or after Kai. But I know _you_. And you're… not dealing with it well." She sighed heavily. "Not to mention you clearly have feelings for Damon, which is probably a sign of the apocalypse." Eyes wide, she arched her eyebrows meaningfully.

"What?" Bonnie laughed incredulously. "I don't have _feelings_ for—"

"Hey! It's _me_." Caroline stared at her seriously, a faint smile turning up her lips. "Am I going to judge? Yes. Absolutely. I can't help it. But that doesn't mean you can't talk to me and I won't at least _try _to understand where you're coming from."

Bonnie turned her gaze away, focusing on a picture of her and Grams sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. She slowly ate the ice cream off her spoon, letting it melt on her tongue. Minutes passed in silence with a few false starts before she finally said, "Sometimes I don't think I'm really here."

Caroline was silent, listening rather than interrupting.

"I _know _I am. Logically. I… I know that I went and I got the rock from the island and I sucked the magic out of it and forced my way back over here. But… sometimes… Sometimes I almost think I died in that garage, choking on exhaust fumes. Or that I'm curled up somewhere in the boarding house, alone, bleeding out. That I manufactured all of this in my head. And when people are around, when they reach for me, I panic a little. Sometimes because I'm worried that I _won't _feel it. That they'll reach for me and I'll know it really is a dream. And other times because… I just got used to it. I got so used to the quiet that the noise seems so _loud_ and it's just… it's _suffocating_." Her eyes darted to the floor, blinking as they burned. "I had so much taken away from me, I was so lost and alone and powerless, and now… Now I'm just trying to prove to myself that I'm not. Even when it hurts or I feel like I'm still stuck over there, I keep trying to show myself that I made it and I'm okay. Even if I'm not. Not yet." She folded her lips as her voice strained, throat burning with emotion.

Caroline reached for her, fingers wrapping around Bonnie's forearm gently. "You're here," she said softly. "You're right here with me. You're solid and I'm solid and there is nobody, on the whole of this planet, that's as strong as you are."

Bonnie looked up, her tearful eyes meeting Caroline's.

"I mean it." Caroline squeezed, her own eyes bright with tears. "After everything you've been through and everything you've done, you are _so _strong, Bonnie. And whatever you need, if you need to hold my hand or you want me to make sure you have your space when you need it, you just say the word."

Breaking out in a smile, she nodded, and covered Caroline's hand with her own, even as it shook. "Okay."

"Okay." She raised her other arm. "Hug?"

With a choked laugh, Bonnie put her ice cream aside, climbed off the couch, and wrapped her arms around Caroline, pressing her face against her neck and holding on tightly. "I missed you," she murmured, closing her eyes.

"I missed you too." Caroline rubbed her back and rocked her gently. "Nothing's the same without you here. So do me a favor and don't ever, ever, _ever _die on me again. Okay?"

Nodding, Bonnie held on a little tighter. "I'll try."

They stayed like that, curled up close together, until Bonnie's neck started to hurt a little from the angle. And then she shifted to Caroline's right and reached down for the bottle of vodka, taking a quick swig. "Did you get this from the boarding house?"

Caroline snorted. "No. Are you kidding? I haven't set foot in there for weeks."

Bonnie shook her head. "He misses you, you know? He asks about you whenever I visit."

"You mean when you never leave?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I leave all the time. I started back at school, remember?"

"Yes, but I also noticed you spend every weekend back here… And that when you're not here, you're on your phone with him, texting and FaceTiming. Seriously. You'd think you got more than enough of him when you were stuck in '94. What could you _possibly _have to talk about?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I don't know. Things. He asks about my classes and keeps me up on the latest freak of the week to try and take over the town. Also, one time, he set up the checkers board and had me tell him where to move my pieces." With a snort, she rolled her eyes. "Obviously, he cheated, but he likes to think that's part of his charm."

Caroline stared at her a long moment. "Oh my God…"

She looked over at her. "What?"

"You're in love with him!"

"_What?_"

"I thought maybe it was a little crush or separation anxiety or just feeling like he was the only one who could understand what it felt like to be over there, but this is way bigger than that. You are _totally _in love with him." Slapping a hand down onto her leg, Caroline shook her head. "Ugh. _Salvatores_. They're like a disease."

Bonnie shook her head quickly. "I am _not_ in love with… _anyone_."

Caroline raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? So, how often do you talk? Daily, weekly. Do you text in between? Does he call you before bed or just to make sure you got back to the dorms okay?"

"He's just worried. We don't exactly have the best track record! I can't count how many times one of us was kidnapped," she defended.

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes. "And what about before bed? I've seen you texting in your bed, smiling at your phone at 2 am when you have an 8 am class."

Bonnie blew out an exasperated sigh. "So we lose track of time sometimes. It's fine. I just get an extra-large coffee in the morning."

"Bonnie, you're missing the point! When was the last time you put off sleep to text with someone? Or were excited to go home for a weekend because you'd spend it with just them! Or had inside jokes that nobody else gets or spent every waking moment thinking about someone."

Bonnie paused, her brow furrowed. "I…"

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not encouraging it, exactly. But… Face facts, you are completely and totally in love with him. You smile differently when you see him or when his name pops up on your phone. You get all… _soft_." She scrunched up her face. "It'd be cute, if it wasn't for Damon."

Bonnie stared, wide eyed at the floor, and then tipped the vodka bottle back and took a long guzzle.

"Whoa, hey, save some for the rest of us." Caroline stole the bottle away from her. "Contrary to popular belief, I have first-hand experience that you can't drink your feelings away!"

Panting a little, Bonnie started panicking. "This isn't possible. I… We're _friends_. He's one of my _best _friends. I can't have feelings for him. I can't be _in love _with him. Caroline!" She reached over and gripped her friend's arm. "Take it back!"

"Ow! _Nails!_" Pulling her arm free, she rubbed it, frowning. "Fine. I take it back. Doesn't make it any less real. But whatever."

"Oh God, oh no, this is _bad_. This is so bad." Pushing off the couch, Bonnie started pacing ringing her hands.

"What's the big deal? He and Elena are on the outs again. I mean, how many times can one couple fight about erasing your memories, right?" She scoffed. "If you ask me, those two had an expiry date stamped on them from the beginning. I mean, that crazy, dramatic, so-called 'epic' love is not nearly as awesome as they make it out to be. I think it lost its shine a while ago, if it ever had any to begin with. But that could be me. I'm still a little bitter about how they hurt Stefan. Which, now that I think about it, is probably weird, right? I mean, if Elena hadn't left Stefan for Damon, I'd be in the same boat as you, in love with someone who was still kind of with someone else."

Bonnie looked back at her, throwing a hand up. "Not helping!"

Caroline shrugged. "Sorry. If it makes you feel better, even without the Elena speed-bump, Stefan and I aren't together."

"Yes, because you're avoiding him, you never answer his phone calls, and he's so guilty he doesn't think you'll ever forgive him. I, on the other hand, have a great friendship with Damon and spend all of my free time with him. You could actually _be _with the one you're in love with. I have to play sidekick and help him get back with his true love!" Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. "This is awful… Why did I invite you over here? We were supposed to eat ice cream and drink and have pointless fun. Not talk about boys! Boys suck. They're terrible. Why do we even need them?"

Caroline shrugged. "Mostly sex and procreation."

Not exactly comforted, Bonnie let out another pained groan.

With a sigh, Caroline rolled her eyes. "Bonnie, calm down, look, no one needs to know, okay? You don't have to tell anybody. It can just be our little secret."

"Secrets? I love secrets. Who has secrets?" a voice interrupted suddenly.

Bonnie whirled around, her eyes wide, and found a grinning Damon standing in the doorway to the living room.

Caroline sat stock still on the couch, her brows hiked high. "Guess I jinxed that one."

Bonnie passed her a brief glare before looking back at Damon. "Hey… I thought I told you it was a girls' night tonight." She awkwardly hugged her arms around herself, rocking back on her heels.

"You did. Which is why I'm only here to drop a few things off and then I'll be out of your hair." He held a bag out toward her. "Chick flicks, some of my better bourbon, popcorn and that chocolate you like."

Bonnie relaxed suddenly, a smile turning up her lips. She tucked her hair behind her ears and then reached out, taking the bag from his outstretched hand and opening it to look inside. "You didn't have to… How is _Speed _a chick flick?"

He shrugged. "I thought girls like Keanu Reeves."

Digging in the bag a little more, she shook her head, amused. "Dances With Wolves, Message in a Bottle, Bill Durham…"

"Do we have a Kevin Costner crush I don't know about?" Caroline wondered.

Biting her lip, Bonnie looked up, staring at him for a long moment. "My favorite isn't in here."

"Ah, well, that one's not for Blondie," Damon said, grinning as he pushed off the wall. "You wanna watch that one, you'll have to come by tomorrow. I can promise homemade pasta. Not a pancake in sight."

"Deal," she said, helpless to her grin.

"Great." He waved a hand then. "Well, I have broody brother to get back to. So you ladies have a good night..."

As he walked out of the house, the door closing behind him, Bonnie looked back down into the bag, warmth spreading through her chest.

"Well, on the bright side, your feelings are _definitely _reciprocated," Caroline piped up.

Bonnie looked over at her. "What? _No_… He just— He was being nice. I know you don't have a lot of experience with that from him, but trust me, it happens sometimes."

"Yes. In small doses with very specific people." Standing from the couch, Caroline walked over, reached into the bag, and came out with Speed. "For the record, I _do _like Keanu. Even if pale skin with dark hair is really more _your _type."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but laughed under her breath as she walked over to take a seat on the couch. Despite herself, she couldn't help but get more than a little excited for tomorrow. Of course, logically, she'd seen The Bodyguard enough that she'd memorized the dialogue, and she spent so much time with Damon that his house was her second home, and, really, it was a dinner between friends, nothing special.

A faint beeping noise drew her attention then and she searched around for her phone, opening up her text messages.

_Hey, ask Blondie to put Stefan out of his misery tomorrow so we can have the place to ourselves. _

Bonnie half-smiled. _I don't know if she'll go for it, but I'll see what I can do. See you tomorrow!_

He answered seconds later: _It's a date. ;) _

And her heart banged in her chest.

"Uh, Care…? I need a favor…"

[**end**.]

* * *

**author's note**:_ i was so excited to write a little baroline! i miss their friendship and i really wish they'd had a real reunion rather than the humanity-less one we got. :/ here's hoping that gets resolved in canon eventually. until then, i'm happy to write these two as the bff's they are. _

_thank you for reading! please leave a review; they're my lifeblood!_

**\- lee | fina**


	4. until the end (it's me and you)

**title**: until the end (it's me and you)  
**genre**: romance/angst  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: high teen  
**word count**: 1,843  
**prompt**: "If you die, I'm gonna kill you."- **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Due to a surprise attack from Kai, Bonnie has to face off against him, leaving only one person the victor. Damon watches as his witch takes on an enemy he's not sure she'll survive.

**_until the end (it's me and you)_**  
-1/1-

Damon's eyes cracked open slowly, nothing but dirt and gravel in sight. Shadows played over the ground, a faint orange glow to everything. He could feel a burning sensation eating at his skin, like it was peeling away. He squeezed his eyes shut and just tried to breathe, sucking air in through his nose. Sound was a dull roar in his ears, like rushing water. Inhaling deeply, he forced his eyes open and cast them around, dragging his leg up under him. He pushed up to his knees, a little dizzy, blood seeping from a cut over his forehead and dripping down his eye. He blinked a few times, the rolling heat of a fire nearby briefly catching his attention. Swaying, he stared up at the trees, orange flames climbing up branches, billowing black clouds coming off of them. His ears were ringing now and, as he tried to push up onto his feet, his legs gave out on him momentarily.

He could make out a pillow of brown hair a few feet away and squinted. _Elena_. Knocked out, burned, but still alive. Tiny slivers of cuts littered her face, gravel in her hair and dirt smudged across her shirt.

Brow furrowed, he turned his head forward and heard chanting, loud and repetitive; two distinct voices.

"_Bonnie_," he rasped, his eyes narrowed. He pushed up to his feet, palms scraping on rocks, and stumbled forward, his arms wind-milling briefly.

Stefan was leaned up against a tree, eyes half-closed, blood drying on the side of his face. Caroline knelt beside him, a fiercely protective look on her half-burned face for someone without their humanity.

Damon turned his attention back in front of him, where Bonnie was facing off against Kai. He could almost hear her judgy voice – "I _told _you he was faking!" – but he shook his head, blinking rapidly as his vision became spotty. There was vervain all over him, his skin red and raw, from whatever makeshift bomb Kai had tossed in their direction, putting as many vampires down for the count as he could. Damon could feel his skin struggling to knit back together, which made focusing on the current problem an issue. That didn't stop him from stumbling toward her.

Kai was powerful. He had both Luke's _and _Jo's powers, pathetic as they were, and he didn't exactly hold back on the crazy switch, not like Bonnie did. Which meant that she could be out of her league. And considering how pissed off she was at Kai, she wouldn't pull back, not even if it killed her.

He could smell blood. _Her_ blood. Falling to his knees, his head rolled back a little and he squinted his eyes at her. His vision blurred before narrowing down, focused on her face. Her nose was bleeding; a steady trickle that tripped over her lips and off her chin. He swallowed tightly. Kai _wasn't _bleeding. Which was a sign, wasn't it? His little witch was in over her head, and too damn stubborn to stop.

"Bonnie," Damon called, crawling a few inches on his hands and knees. "Bon, you need to stop."

Ignoring him, she continued to chant, her arm sweeping up, fingers curled toward her palm.

Gritting his teeth, Damon shoved himself up, pushing down on his knees to keep his body up, even as he listed to the right. "He's _killing _you," he told her, stumbling forward. "You're _bleeding_. You need to stop."

"I'll stop when he's _dead_," she yelled at him, tearing her eyes off of a smirking Kai to glare at Damon. "He _deserves _this."

"He does. I know he does," he agreed. "But not now. You're not strong enough yet."

Gnashing her teeth together, she looked back at Kai.

"He's right, Bon-Bon…" Kai mocked smugly. "You might have your ancestors on your side, but you're _exhausted_."

Bonnie took a deep breath, wiped her nose, and raised her other hand. She twisted it in the air viciously and Kai's proud smirk fell away, a choked noise exiting his lips.

"You think I'm tired?" She dug her heels in and raised her chin. "You don't know what tired is."

Damon moved closer, even as he felt a gust of wind kicking up around them, rushing around in a slow build to a cyclone.

"I buried my grandmother… my _father_… I had my mother abandon me, _twice_… I have shed blood, sweat, and tears until I had nothing left… I have _died _for these people, _repeatedly_… I survived on the other side with _two _stab wounds and _no one _to hold me while I fell apart… I have been used and broken and _discarded_," she yelled. "I've known pain greater than you will _ever _experience." Lightening cracked across the sky, lighting it up brilliantly, and the fire in the trees suddenly roared up, twisting and turning, before abandoning the trees to join the wind that whipped around the two witches, leaping and dancing in a glorious and terrifying display of power. "So if you think one little nosebleed is a sign that I don't have it in me… then you have no _idea _who you're dealing with."

Sucking in a deep breath, she spun her hands around in circles and then shoved them forward, her chanting louder, _sharper_.

Kai stumbled backwards, a blast of fire and air shoving at him. It whipped across his skin and burned at his clothes, searing him. He sneered at her, pressing his chest out and lurching forward. But the force of Bonnie's anger, of her power, was too strong.

"Your coven made a mistake, sending you to that prison world," Bonnie told him, voice raised over the shrieking wind and cracking fire. "They should've put you down for good."

"Their mistake was my gain," he called back. He cocked his head. "You know. _Eventually_."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "No, Kai. See, they would've taken pity on you. They'd have compassion. From me, you get neither."

Before he could reply, Bonnie brought her hands up and clapped them together. A loud boom echoed around them before wind and fire suddenly condensed, wrapping itself around Kai like an inescapable blanket, squeezing and burning away at him. His screams melted into the shrieking noise, his mouth hanging ajar and his eyes bulged, until the fire ate him whole, crawling into his pores and burning him from the inside out. His skin cracked, peeling away into ash, swept away on the breeze left behind as the cyclone finally dissipated, leaving a charred battle field behind.

Everything went quiet then, nothing but heavy breathing. If Damon strained his ears, he could still hear the trees behind him, smoking and crumbling. But all he could focus on was Bonnie. She swayed suddenly, listing to the left, and then fell. He rushed forward, catching her just before she hit the ground.

"Hey, hey, look at me…" He pulled her upper half into his lap and brushed her hair back from her sweat dampened face, searching out her eyes. "Bonnie…" He wiped his thumb under her nose, only succeeding in smudging the blood collected there. "Damn it, Bonnie, answer me."

She blinked her tied eyes open before they fell back to half-mast. "I got him," she murmured, a faint smile pulling up her lips.

Another trickle of blood streamed from her nose and he cursed under his breath. Pressing a palm to her cheek, he gave her a little shake. "Hey, listen to me, if you die on me, I'll kill you. You hear me?" He swallowed tightly when she didn't answer and, panicking, lifted his arm up, biting into his wrist. "Come on, drink, it'll make you feel better."

Nose scrunched up, she turned her head away with a grunt. "No, it could make me turn. I don't wanna turn…" she slurred.

"Yeah, well I don't want you to _die_," he snarled, pressing his wrist to her mouth.

She stared up at him, her eyes a little glazed and her lips still pressed close. It took her a few long seconds, but eventually she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the shredded skin of his wrist.

"That was stupid, you know that? And _reckless_." He cradled her head, lifting it a little so she could swallow easier. "Kai is strong, and you've barely got your feet under you yet."

She narrowed her eyes up at him.

"Yeah, glare at me all you want, Witchy, doesn't change the fact that he could've _killed _you…" He ground his teeth together, his fingers scrubbing through her hair. "I just got you back, I don't need you getting suicidal on me."

"Not suicidal," she argued, breaking away from his wrist.

"More," he ordered her.

"I'm fine." She pushed his arm away and tried to roll herself out of his lap.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he helped her sit up, but kept her next to him, taking the brunt of her weight as she leaned into his side.

For a moment, they were silent, the charred tree branches rustling in the breeze, Stefan quietly reassuring a worried Caroline, and Elena, still knocked out in the distance.

"You feel better?" Damon wondered, his voice quiet.

Bonnie shrugged. "A little." She dropped her head to his shoulder. "He deserved it."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "Yeah."

She swallowed tightly then, blinking rapidly. "Damon?"

He hummed.

"I'm not okay," she whispered, her voice strained.

Turning his head, he looked down at her.

Shaking, she reached an arm across him, her hand furling in the front of his shirt. "I didn't think I'd make it. And when I did, I still didn't believe it." She licked her dry lips. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't… I feel _off_ and scared and I _hate_ it."

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in tight. Nodding, he told her, "So we'll figure it out. That's what we do, right? We figure things out. So we'll do it again." She nodded, pressing her face down against him, and he let his chin rest atop her head. "Just, no more semi-suicidal plans for revenge, all right?"

Sniffing, she defended, "He started it."

His mouth ticked up at the corners. "Yeah, well, you definitely ended it." He brushed his fingers through her hair gently. "You scared me a little, Bon-Bon… Not the 'I am witch, hear me roar' spiel —that I'm used to— but the rage, not looking out for yourself… I can pull you back from the edge every time, if that's what you need, but if you're the one walking yourself out there, then we got bigger problems."

She was quiet for a moment, just resting against him, holding on to his shirt. "I don't want to be scared anymore," she whispered.

"Okay."

It would take time, for her to heal, but he would be there. Every step of the way.

Damon squeezed her a little tighter, pressing his cheek down against her hair. "_Okay_."

[**end**]

* * *

**Title from**: "_Silhouettes_" by Active Child feat. Ellie Goulding.

* * *

**author's note**: I found this oddly cathartic for all of my Bonnie feels. Just her standing up to Kai and talking about all she'd been through and how it had made her a stronger person, even as it tore her apart, and then to have her break down and admit she's not dealing with things well to Damon and him supporting her, yeah. Felt good to put it into words. I hope you liked it too.

Also, for those wonder, "'til eternity" should (hopefully) be updated this weekend.

Thank you all for reading! Please try to leave a review; they're my lifeblood.

\- **Lee | Fina**


	5. take me (into your loving arms)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: romance/humor  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 1,263  
**prompt**: "I can't believe you talked me into this." - **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Bonnie has a list of 50 things she wants to do before she dies (again), and Damon decides they should get started immediately. Starting with skinny-dipping.

**_take me (into your loving arms)_**  
-1/1-

Bonnie stood at the edge of the water, her whole body shivering when it lapped at her toes. She'd tossed her jeans and socks, but she was still covered by a shirt that reached down to her thighs. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she dug her toes into the damp dirt and bit her lip indecisively.

Damon, on the other hand, had already shucked all of his clothes and swam out into the water, pale skin proudly glowing under the moonlight. There was no modesty from his side of things, which didn't surprise her in the least.

She glared after him. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this…"

He grinned at her and stood, flicking his head to spray water from his hair. The lake wasn't too deep, not where he was standing, only reaching midway up his stomach. "C'mon, Bon, the water's nice."

"Says the vampire who can withstand just about anything," she muttered, but reached for another button on the shirt she was wearing. "What if I just stripped down to my underwear? That's close enough!"

"Nope, the whole shebang! Come on. I'll even cover my eyes!" He pressed his wet palm to his face and grinned. "I'll only peek a little, I swear."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but stared at him, trying to see if he was covering his eyes completely. When she felt sure he was, she quickly unbuttoned her top and shucked it off before peeling her underwear down her legs and unclipping her bra. Covering her chest with her hands, she dipped a toe in the water, winced when it was still a little chilly, and then took a deep breath. She stepped forward, letting the water reach up her ankle. Raising her chin stubbornly, she walked forward, arms still hugged around herself. Making little, discouraged noises, she waded up to her waist and then dipped her body down and shoved off on her feet, stretching her arms out and letting the water cover her up to her shoulders. She kicked her legs, swimming a little further out.

Teeth chattering, she accused, "Liar! It's cold!"

"It's _perfect_," he argued, before dropping his hands from his eyes and searching her out. He grinned as he spotted her, nothing more than a head above water. "Look at you, Bon-Bon, a _rebel_." His eyes flashed teasingly.

She rolled her eyes at him and swam a little further out, keeping her distance from him and sticking her tongue out when he slapped the water to splash her. "_Damon_," she complained.

He shrugged, leaning back and falling into the water, his head ducking underneath. When he didn't come up right away, she frowned. "That's not funny," she said, squinting down at the water as if she might be able to see him. "I swear, Damon, if you pull me under…"

Something tickled across her stomach and Bonnie shrieked, trying to backpedal in the water and only managing to get her head dunked briefly. She felt the same touch on her toes and wondered how easy it would be to kick him in the face. Swishing her legs around, she hoped for just that, but didn't hit anything in her pursuit. Suddenly, Damon's head popped through the surface and he spat out a stream of water, grinning.

"Ha, ha, very original," she muttered, kicking her legs to keep herself up as she wiped water from her face and pushed her hair back. Her arms slid back under to wave back and forth, sending little ripples toward him.

"So? How's it feel, huh?" He turned himself so he was floating on his back. "You've tossed away any and all propriety. You a new woman yet?" He winked.

"I'm a _cold _woman."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Happy to warm you up, Bon-Bon."

Bonnie splashed him, laughing when he sputtered, twisting himself over to cough. She wasn't so amused when he raised a brow, taking her actions as a challenge.

"Damon, _no!_"

His grin was shark-like before he surged forward.

Shrieking, Bonnie turned, swimming away as fast as her arms and legs could take her. But Damon was quick, in or out of water, and he quickly grabbed onto her ankle and yanked her backwards. Bonnie struggled, but soon found her back pressed to his chest, wet and bare. Her breath hitched and she swallowed, suddenly very aware of his hands on her skin, one on her waist, his arm around her stomach, and the other on her shoulder.

She could feel water dripping off of his hair and onto her back, followed by the cool gust of his breath. She shivered, and this time it had nothing to do with how cool the water was.

His fingers squeezed her side, flexed, and then shifted a little lower, before she was abruptly turned around, water dispersed in every direction. She stared up at him, lit by the moon, his pale skin seeming oddly luminescent. Water dripped down the plains of his face, caught on his eyelashes, splashed to his cheeks with each blink and sluiced down to teeter at the edge of his jaw before they fell. His hair was plastered to his forehead, much like her own, which was sticking to her neck and the sides of her face. He reached up, a finger gently pressing her hair back from her cheek to behind an ear.

"You know, when you showed me your list of 50 things you wanted to do before you died, _again_, I thought you might chicken out on some of the bigger ones," he admitted, brows arched.

"Skinny dipping is big?" she murmured.

"Well, you're naked, and I'm naked… That feels kind of big."

For once, despite having the obvious opening, Damon didn't make the joke.

Bonnie shrugged, staring up at him searchingly. "Maybe I didn't want to wait… I think I've done more than enough of that. Now I'm seeing that some things shouldn't be put off."

"Yeah?" His mouth turned up on one side. "Is that what we are? Something that shouldn't be put off."

Bonnie took a deep, steadying breath. She reached for him, pressing a hand to his chest, and slid it up to his shoulder. "I don't know what we are. But I want to find out."

His eyes darted down to her lips for a moment, and then he nodded. "For the record…" He squeezed the hand at her waist and then pulled her forward so they were pressed together, skin to skin. "I don't plan on letting you die any time soon. So if we start this, that list is going to get longer, and we'll make everything happen long before you see any bright white lights. Deal?"

She shivered as his fingers skittered up her back, and bit her lip, nodding.

Damon smiled. "Good. Now let's strike off #51."

She raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Make out naked in a lake with the man of your dreams. _Obviously_."

She laughed, but before she could argue, his mouth had covered hers, and she found she really didn't want to fight at all. Well, at least not until after, when he added #63 – have sex on a historical landmark, #73 – punch one of the wonder cops; fuck the police, and #125 – make Damon's French maid fantasy a reality. She refused to even _fake _dust something. But she might show him what she could do with feathers, if he was good. A concept he was only _semi _aware of. Later though, when #51 wasn't so much fun.

[**end**.]


	6. I miss you more (than I thought I would)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: friendship/romance  
**rating**: pg-13  
**word count**: 1,507  
**prompt**: "You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes." - **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: An unexpected fainting spell causes Damon and Bonnie to reconnect and admit they've missed each other after three weeks of separation.

**_I miss you more (than I thought I would)_**  
-1/1-

Damon blinked his eyes open slowly, and frowned as he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. This… was not his bedroom.

"Hey."

Turning his head, he frowned as he found Bonnie sitting in an armchair beside him. She held a mug out and a deep inhale told him it was warmed up blood.

Reaching for it, he pushed up with his free hand until he was seated on the couch, his head spinning for a moment. Wincing, he closed his eyes, and brought the blood up to his mouth, humming appreciatively as it coated his tongue and slid down his throat. When he'd killed off half the mug, he wondered, "How'd I end up at Casa Bennett?"

Raising an eyebrow, she tipped her head. "You don't remember?"

Blinking his eyes open, he glanced over and then down at himself. "Well, I'm still fully dressed and I spent the night on the couch. So any _conceivable _reason I can think of for why I'd stay the night is off the table."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You _fainted_… straight into my arms." Lips quirked in a smirk, she added, "You know, if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."

Frowning, he looked down into the mug and tried to think back to the previous night. "'Fainted' is a strong word… What happened? _Exactly_."

"We were at the Toy Drive benefit Caroline basically _forced_ everyone to go to, you remember that much?"

He nodded.

"Okay, well, you were drinking champagne like it was going out of style... You hit on the program coordinator for a while, but ducked out when her _husband_ interrupted." She rolled her eyes. "You danced with Elena a few times, ate some suspicious looking crab cakes, made fun of Stefan, you know, the usual."

"Yeah, get to the good part, when did I… pass out?"

"You _fainted _shortly after the closing speech. You were on your way out, but you were stumbling and you said something about getting 'her' to talk to you. I assumed Elena, but you seemed chummy enough on the dance floor… Anyway, I wasn't sure you were supposed to be driving, so I intervened. Of course, you fought with me over your car keys, because you're pigheaded, and right after I gave you an aneurysm and took them away, you just kind of…" She waved her hand and made a whistling noise in a 'timber' imitation. "I did catch you. Kind of hard not to when you were coming right at me. Anyway, with a little magic, I got you into the car." She shrugged. "I was tired, and I didn't feel like driving all the way out to the boarding house, so I just brought you here."

Damon blinked a few times. "There must've been something in the champagne… or the crabcakes."

"Like a vampire Rohypnol?" she raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Because not a lot takes you out, and you didn't look like you were in pain. If you weren't a vampire, I'd just say you drank too much and your system gave out."

Humming, he took another long drink of the blood. "So that's it though? You brought me back here and I slept it off?"

"You mumbled a lot. Nothing I could make out though. I did call Stefan to let him know what was going on. He said if you were still feeling out of it, he'd come pick you up."

"Saint Stefan," Damon muttered.

"So? Are you feeling better?" She pressed down on her knees as she stood up and put a hand out for the empty mug as she walked past him. "Because that was the only blood bag I have in my fridge. Caroline left it behind for 'vampire emergencies.'" She rolled her eyes affectionately.

His mouth cracked in a faint smile. "Guess I qualify as one of those."

"More often than not." She walked off to the kitchen and Damon leaned back into the couch, listening to her footsteps and the steady beat of her heart; he found it oddly calming. "Did you want me to drive you home? The couch probably wasn't too comfortable to sleep on..."

As she walked back toward him, he said, "Not my first choice of beds, but it was fine."

She leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. "You know… I meant what I said earlier. We haven't been spending much time together lately. Things have been kind of chaotic with your mom and Kai and… everything."

He looked over at her. "Are you saying you _miss _me?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You're the one that fell dramatically into _my _arms, remember?"

He grinned. "And _you _caught me."

"Yeah, well, I might have a tiny soft spot for you," she muttered.

"Tiny?"

"Infinitesimal."

He smirked, and pushed up off the couch. "I think it's a lot bigger than that."

"Well, you have an inflated ego, so you would."

He shook his head and walked toward her. "No, I think you _like _me."

She shrugged. "You're not the _worst_ company."

"I think you miss having me around. Miss fighting with me. Miss board games and pancakes and 2 am conversations over bourbon."

Bonnie snorted. "Miss you antagonizing me, _cheating _at board games, eating so many pancakes I can never eat them again, and listening to you drunkenly wax poetic about Elena…? Mmm, no, I don't think so."

He nodded, coming to a stop just in front of her. "It's part of the allure."

"_What _allure?" she scoffed.

"Just admit it…" He reached out, stroking her hair back from her cheek, his heart giving a lurch when she shivered a little. "You kind of miss when it was just us hanging out. That's why you kept such a close eye on me at the benefit."

"I kept an eye on you because you were drunk and getting reckless."

"Right, so you were just looking out for the well-being of others," he mocked.

She stared up at him. "I tend to do that."

"So these last few weeks, you haven't missed me at all? Not even a little bit." He stared at her searchingly. "You don't think about texting me or coming over or wonder what I'm doing."

She stayed stubbornly quiet.

"Because I do," he admitted.

She blinked, faltering slightly.

"I might not miss being stuck in a prison world where there was no one around and the music never changed. But I do miss talking to you… Even if you always want to fight with me about _everything_."

"Hah! You're the one who turns everything into argument."

He grinned, pointing at her. "_See!?_"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "You set me up for that."

"And you walked right into it." He shrugged happily. "Just like old times."

"It's only been a few weeks," she said, shaking her head. "And you could have come over any time."

"Well, maybe I wanted _you _to come see _me_."

Bonnie sighed. "I can't read your mind, Damon."

He waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure there's a spell for that."

Her lips twitched. "You're ridiculous."

"Yes. But you like me all the same."

"Sometimes."

"Always."

"Occasionally."

"_Obsessively_."

She pursed her lips. "You're not _completely _annoying."

He chuckled under his breath. "High praise, Bon-Bon."

"Whatever." She pushed off the wall. "Since you're feeling better, and since I have nothing to do, why don't we go somewhere for breakfast?"

Just as he opened his mouth, she interrupted, "_No _pancakes."

Half-smiling, he swung an arm around her shoulders. "You drive a hard bargain, but since you've been _woefully_ lonely without me these last few weeks, I can make this small sacrifice for your happiness."

"Uh-huh. And while we're eating, we can try to figure out why, exactly, you fainted?"

"Passed out."

"Fainted like a Southern lady with heat stroke."

He frowned down at her. "_Hilarious_."

She smirked up at him. "You might as well have pressed your hand to your forehead as you fell." She took on a Southern twang and mocked, "'_Catch me, Bonnie, I simply cannot handle this level of intoxication_.'"

Rolling his eyes, he ushered her out the front door. "You used to have compassion for people, Bon-Bon. I'm disappointed."

"Hey, I got you home, safe and sound. _You're welcome_."

He grinned down at her then. "So you _were _worried."

Sighing, she elbowed him in the side. "Of course I was." She groaned when he turned smug and pushed out from under his arm. "Shouldn't _you _be more concerned?"

He shrugged. "Why? My favorite witch is on it. I'm sure you'll figure out what happened. And then we'll deal with it." Circling his car to the driver's side, he told her, "The dream team, that's what we are."

Amused, she raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"_Yup_," he said, climbing inside.

Joining him, she closed the passenger door. "All right. Dream team it is. We can talk code names over breakfast. Which _you _are buying."

As he turned the ignition, he wondered, "How's IHOP sound?"

"_Damon_."

[**End**.]


	7. maybe we found love (right where we are)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: romance  
**rating**: high teen  
**word count**: 1,115  
**prompt**: "Just once." - **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: This wasn't love in the messed up way he'd experienced before, no; it was better.

**_maybe we found love (right where we are)_**  
-1/1-

According to Bonnie, it was a one-time thing. It was a 'get it out of their system' situation. It was 'one last time.' But Damon knew better. Damon knew what was happening, and he wasn't playing dumb to it. He'd been in love; chaotic, toxic, tear-him-apart love. This wasn't that. This wasn't consuming in the same way. He wasn't blind to his own mistakes, even if he tended to repeat them. What he and Bonnie had was something different. Built on a foundation of friendship, on trust that had struggled its way out of mistrust and deception. He'd screwed up in the past. He'd hurt her and the people she cared about. And she had every reason not to care about him, not to give one iota of her attention to anything about him. But she did. She cared. She saved him and supported him and picked him up off the ground with that exasperated look on her face. She never turned a blind-eye to the worst of him, but she knew there was good in him, knew that, if he tried, he could be better than even he knew.

Falling in love with Bonnie was never in the plan. Elena had been his be all, end all for so long, sometimes he wondered if there was ever anyone or anything else. But that love hurt as much as it healed, sometimes more than it healed, and as hard as it was to let her go, he had to.

He and Bonnie were as complicated as they were uncomplicated. They were bickering over bourbon and board games. They were honesty, even when it burned to swallow the painful truth. They were yin and yang and all of the miscommunication and disagreements it came with. Their relationship had him waking up in the middle of the night, worried when he couldn't hear her heartbeat in the house. It was pancakes she would _never _willingly eat again, no matter how much whip cream he put on top. It was 90's music and flannel and fire and aneurysms. It was the curve her mouth made when she was trying, and failing, to find him annoying rather than funny. It was the way her eyes darted away from his when she knew he was right and didn't want to admit it. It was how naturally he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear and how simple it was to rest her cheek in his palm.

He loved her. Loved her like that first breath of air after coming up from water. Like the first sip of bourbon after a long, trying day. Like waking up on a Sunday with nothing to do but rest. It was easy and earned and as simple as everything before it had been hard. This wasn't love in the messed up way he'd experienced before, no; it was better.

"Just once," she said, mumbled it against his mouth as he kissed her, as his hands pulled her top from her jeans. Her head fell back as his lips traveled down her neck. She didn't flinch; she never flinched anymore, and something hopeful always unfurled in his stomach. She wasn't scared of him, of what he could do to her, of the easy temptation of having her neck so close to his mouth. Instead, she furled her fingers in his hair and arched up, wiggling her hips as he shoved her jeans down her legs.

He raised his head, nipped the edge of her chin, and told her, "More than once."

And her eyes, at half-mast, blinked open, staring at him.

He pulled her top up, over her head, half-smiling when she raised her arms to help. Reaching behind her, he unclipped her bra and dragged the straps down her arms, staring into her eyes as he did. "I want tomorrow. " He ducked down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "I want tomorrow morning…" Her neck. "And afternoon…" Her chin. "And night." Her lips.

Tucking his hands under the back of her thighs, he lifted her, carrying her toward his bed as her legs wrapped around his waist. "We can get breakfast at that little café you like, the one that charges too much for a basic cup of black coffee." His brows arched. "And we can see that Sandra Bullock movie you keep talking about. The one I have literally _no _interest in seeing." He shook his head. "And for dinner, I will personally make you anything you want, and I fill feed you every damn bite. As long as you don't sneak out in the morning, or in the middle of the night, or _ever_." He stared at her searchingly. "No more 'one more for the road' or 'this is the last time, I swear.' Just… _stay_."

He dropped her down to the bed, her legs tucked under her, and she stared up at him as he pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it away. He stripped down slowly, taking his time, watching her as she sat, chewing on her lip, her brow furrowed. And when he had nothing left to take off, he reached for her, cupped her cheeks in either hand, thumbs brushing over the arch, and he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. No tongue, no teeth, just the gentle pressure of his mouth against hers.

She was still for a moment, completely and unnaturally unmoving. But then she pressed back, she leaned in, she raised her own hand, fingertips pressed to his jaw. And when their mouths finally parted, she tipped her forehead down to meet his, her eyes closed. "Okay," she whispered.

It wasn't a declaration of love or a promise of forever. It was just tomorrow. It was a beginning. A chance. An opening to prove that this, _they_, could be good, _right_, together. He laughed, rough and happy, as he kissed her once more, pressing her back against the bed. And she answered with a grin, staring up at him, content and hopeful.

The love he'd known before, it was a fire that burned him up from the inside out. Ate away at him, the good and the bad. This was not a fire. It was still hot; a simmering warmth that settled into his bones and promised to keep the cold out. But it didn't destroy him, didn't chew him up and spit him out. It held onto him. Took his hand and squeezed. It was a love that would give as good as it got. And he would give; as much as she did, as _completely_ as she would. This was a partnership; strong, balanced, and true.

[**End**.]


	8. I'll dive in deeper (deeper for you)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: romance  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 1,658  
**prompt**: "Wanna bet?" - **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Sometimes taking a leap into the unknown is the best thing two people can do.

**_I'll dive in deeper (deeper for you)_**  
-1/1-

"You're not going to do it," he sing-songed.

Bonnie looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "Wanna bet?"

Smirking, he leaned forward. "What do I get if I'm right?"

"What do you _want_?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching up at the corners. "I'm sure I could think of something."

Bonnie huffed, but turned back around, staring at the cliff's edge, overlooking the lake below. "It's not _that_ far."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should lean a little closer…?" he suggested smugly.

She took another step closer to the edge, chewing her lip uncertainly. "It won't hurt… Will it?"

He shrugged. "Like tiny needles digging into your skin."

Shifting her feet, she tugged at her tank top. She'd been feeling especially brave when she's shucked her jeans and declared she wouldn't let hear fears hold her back from now on. Maybe it was the shot of bourbon that made her think leaping off a cliff was the best metaphor for her new stance on life. Because it certainly wasn't anything logical.

"Are we jumping or just taking in the view?" Damon wondered.

She looked back at him. "We?"

He shrugged, and shucked off his shirt, tossing it in the direction of his car. Yanking his zipper down, he bent, pulled each of his boots off, jumping in place for balance, and pushed his jeans down.

Bonnie felt suddenly warm, and turned her eyes away. She could hear the rustling of his clothes still and it made her inexplicably focused.

His low, teasing chuckle made her frown.

"Don't worry. I kept the important stuff on."

Without thinking, she looked back, and wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed to find he wasn't stark naked.

Sauntering over to the edge of the cliff, not the least bit nervous, Damon looked over at her, and then held a hand out, palm up. "Ready to conquer those fears, Bon-Bon?"

"You know if you do this that you lose, right?" she said, attempting a joke that came out more nervous than anything.

"Well, that depends on what I wanted if I won… Maybe I get more out of seeing you kick life's ass."

She stared up at him searchingly, a faint smile upturning her lips. "Are we having a moment?"

"Us? _No_. That's the bourbon talking." He looked over at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "We can have a moment later, when you're hyped up on adrenaline and find my selfless cliff-jumping attractive."

She snorted a laugh and reached out, dropping her hand into his, squeezing tightly. "Maybe just pull me out there, you know?"

"Mm-mm." He shook his head. "This one's on you, Little Bird. I can jump _with _you… can't jump _for _you."

"That was… more insightful than I was expecting."

H leered at her playfully."Must be the company I'm keeping lately."

She laughed under her breath, and then gave her whole body a shake. Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin and said. "Okay. We're doing this."

"There's the stubborn witch I know and love. All right, you want to do a run and leap or…?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah. Yes. _That_. So we'll just…" She backed them up, never letting go of his hand, and then stared ahead. "On three."

He nodded.

"One."

This was stupid. She could get hurt. She could trip or not jump far enough out or hit rocks when she landed or—

"Two."

What if he let go? What if she had to do it on her own? What if she panicked and forgot to take a breath before she went under? What if—?

"Three."

As Bonnie ran, she felt weightless, like her legs were moving without her brain being fully aware of what they were doing. The dirt and gravel beneath her feet wasn't exactly nice, but that was almost an absent ache, forgotten in the adrenaline pumping through her veins. As they reached the edge and pushed off, she felt her breath catch; sucked into her lungs and burning there. The fall was simultaneously the quickest and slowest moment of her life. There was just air, rushing all around her, and Damon's hand tight around her own. It was freeing, like every worry and uncertainty just disappeared. She was weightless in every possible way.

_Breathe_.

She wasn't sure if he said it or she thought it, but she sucked in air just before her feet broke through the top of the water and they were plunged downward.

The water hit her, cold and abrupt, stinging her skin and wrapping itself around her. Damon let go as they went under, whether intentionally or not she wasn't sure, and for a moment, she panicked. But then she wasn't going down anymore, she was just floating. And with a kick of her feet, she was making her way back up to the surface, her arms cutting through the water until she could see the moon shining down on her, like a beacon. Bursting through the top, she sucked in air. Wiping at her face, she pushed her hair back, and turned onto her back, free floating, hands gently stroking through the water around her, reaching up high above her head and coming down in an arch, touching her sides before spreading out once more.

Time seemed inconsequential then. Fear. Failure. The unknown. All of it was insignificant. She had faced death and loss, guilt and pain, true and complete suffering, and come out the victor each time. She was a survivor; the definition of. What was left for her to fear? What was left to hold her back? And why? The only thing truly standing in her way was herself. She let herself back in that epiphany for what could've been minutes our hours, floating there in the center of a dark lake with nothing to see but the moon high aboe her.

She could hear crickets in the woods, the faint rustling of branches and foliage, and her own breathing, steadily coming and going. It was soothing, relaxing, in a way she hadn't expected when she'd taken a running leap from so high up. Water lapped at her sides and skimmed her skin, her body seeming to become one with the lake rather than an individual person.

"Ready to swim back to shore, Thrill Seeker?"

Damon's voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. She leaned to the right, turning herself over, and dunked her head back under the water before kicking off and swimming toward the shore. When it was shallow enough, she stood, ringing her shirt out of water and wading through the water until she stood on dry ground.

Just as she squeezed the water from her hair, she was lifted off the ground and, seconds later, found herself back by the car, a cool breeze whipping around them.

Damon's arm was around her waist still as he stared down at her, grinning and dripping in equal measure. "So? Was it everything you dreamed of?" he teased, eyes flashing wide.

She opened her mouth to explain, to tell him of how life-changing it felt to finally slough off the fears and restrictions she'd put on herself. To express how good it felt to take that leap, with nothing but him there to anchor her to reality. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't going to hold herself back anymore. She was going to take the world by the throat and _live _it. Every part of it. The stuff she put off out of obligation to others, or doubt that she would have what she really wanted, or insecurity in herself and what she could accomplish. She wanted to tell him all of that, and she would, but in that moment, the best way to explain what she was feeling and what she wanted was better said in one very simple and very huge action.

Bonnie leaned up on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his. She buried a hand in the wet strands of his hair, cupped at the nape of his neck. There was no expectation out of her kiss; not that he would or wouldn't reciprocate. Not that it would or wouldn't lead anywhere. Not that it would or wouldn't mean anything. She just kissed him. For the her that thought of him before she fell asleep each night, that had her heart race when he looked at her, that smiled automatically when she heard his voice. The her that had been so terrified of the feelings building up inside her for _months _now. Whether it was a beginning or an end, she refused to worry about it. She just _kissed _him.

And when his arms came around her, when his mouth met each slant of hers, when he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her in tight, there was just enjoyment. They were still wet; she was dripping, and her skin was starting to feel chilled. She shivered a little, her shoulders shaking, and he paused, resting his forehead against hers as their mouths parted.

Bonnie licked her lips, her hand slowly sliding down his neck to rest on his shoulder. "What were you going to ask for if you won?" she wondered, swallowing.

"That kiss. Only you wouldn't be half-way to hypothermia."

She laughed, her mouth turning up in a smile.

He leaned back a little, his hands finding her arms and rubbing each of them to get her warm again. His brow furrowed with concentration as he rubbed from her shoulders down, taking each of her hands between both of his and blowing warm air onto her fingers. When she'd stopped shaking, they collected their dry clothes and climbed into the car, the heat on and the radio playing faintly.

As they drove away, returning to regular life and leaving the cliff in the rear-view mirror, Damon held a hand out. Smiling, Bonnie took it.

[**End**.]


	9. it's not warm (when she's away)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: angst/friendship/romance  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 1,359  
**prompt**: "Please, don't leave." – absentlyabbie (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Damon struggles with the emptiness of the 1994 prison world and finds himself taking it out on Bonnie, but every once in a while he can admit he's wrong.

**_it's not warm (when she's away)_**  
-1/1-

_Wonder this time where she's gone  
Wonder if she's gone to stay  
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone  
And this house just ain't no home  
Anytime she goes away_

They were fighting. God, it felt like that was all they did some days. And if there was one thing they were good at, it was fighting. With no one else around, all they had was each other. It was the little things that could nag that began to nag at him. The sound of her humming when she read, an absent thing, but something that seemed to follow him throughout the whole house. How she tapped her pencil against the paper as she tried to fill in that _stupid _crossword for the nth time. The smell of her, shampoo and sweat and her Grams' perfume she'd taken to dabbing on her wrists, occasionally sniffing it for comfort.

He was sure she had a list a mile long of all the ways he annoyed her. Cheating at every board game she put in front of him. The pancakes. Drunkenly singing to terrible 90's music at all hours of the day. Flicking her hair when he was bored. Complaining day and night. Saying her name, over and over, just to hear her snap at him, _"Damon!_" He knew he annoyed her. It was something he'd gotten good at over the years. But sometimes she was just so _quiet_. So _still_. Sitting in a corner of the couch, nose buried in a book, not moving for hours, nothing but the steady noise of here breathing to let him know she was still there. He needed noise. He needed her to yell and scream and throw books at him. He needed to be reminded that _he_ was alive, and the only way he'd ever known to do that was to cause a little havoc and watch the fallout from it all.

But Bonnie could only take so much of it before she left him. _Again_. And that was the worst part. He thought he'd like the space, no more Bonnie-isms, the lack of tapping or humming or the soft slap of her bare feet on the wood floors. But he didn't. The house was too big, echoing with silence, creaking and whining with age. He missed her as soon as she was gone. Missed the steady thump of her heartbeat, missed watching the rise and fall of her chest as she dozed. Maybe that was creepy. In fact, he knew she'd tell him it was. But it scared him sometimes, the idea that she might die, might leave him, might never come back, and it would just be him. _Alone_.

Was that selfish? Probably. He'd always been good at that. But it was more than that too. He liked Bonnie. Even when he didn't like her all that much, even when she clearly hated him, he _liked _her. So yes, he drove her nuts and he picked on her and fought with her, but he didn't want her gone permanently. He just needed to hear her voice, needed her to touch him, even if it meant shoving at his chest, he just needed to know that he was real, and she was real, and they were alive, even if they weren't, not really, not completely.

So when he pushed her too far, again, and she stomped upstairs, gathering up what few of her things she kept with her at all times, grumbling under her breath about how much of an ass he was, and she came hurrying down the stairs again, he knew he had to do something. His hand was shaking around the glass of bourbon. Today was bad. Today was hard and depressing and pulling him apart, piece by piece. He shouldn't have snapped at her, shouldn't have jumped on any chance to rip into her, but he had, and he regretted that.

She was reaching for the door, when he said, "Don't go."

His voice was quiet, barely a noise at all, but in the vast emptiness of the world, she heard him.

She paused, fingers resting on the handle, shoulders still tensed, facing forward, unwilling to turn around.

"I was an ass. I said a lot of things I didn't mean. I… I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.

Her head turned just faintly.

"Please, Bonnie…" He rubbed one of his hands against his jeans, curling his fingers up into a fist. "Please, don't leave."

She turned then, her expression twisted up in hesitation and confusion. "Why?" Before he could answer, she clarified, "Why do you keep doing this?"

He laughed, a faint, self-deprecating scoff. "It just gets so quiet. _Too _quiet_._" His eyes darted around, not quite landing on her, worried about what he might see there. Pity, he expected, and if he saw that, he wasn't sure how he'd take it. Probably lash out, break things, throw it back at her so the truth of it didn't burn so much. If experience said anything, it was that he didn't take to pity well, and he'd already pushed her well past the threshold of forgiveness.

She inhaled deeply, let it out on a sigh, and he stared at her chest, comforted by the idea that she was breathing, she was alive, she was _there_. Nobody else. Just them. Just Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie.

And then she walked toward him, dropping her bag to the floor, her sneakers squeaking a little on the floor. She walked right up to him, closer and closer, until there was nearly no space between them at all. And he breathed in deep, to catch that scent of her that he loved and hated.

"Talk to me," she said.

He went still, slowly moving his eye up to meet hers.

She reached out, took his bourbon from his hand, and tipped it back for a sip. He watched her throat as she swallowed. "If it's too quiet, let's fill it. Just… not with fighting." She raised an eyebrow. "All right?"

Maybe it was a Band-Aid, a temporary fix for a long-term problem, but it couldn't hurt.

So when she held a hand out, he took it, letting his fingers slide between hers. She led him back into the living room, left him standing by the fire to refill his glass as she started grabbing up pillows off the sofa and the arm chairs and, before he knew it, she'd made a bed of them on the floor in front of the fire place.

Kicking off her shoes, she climbed onto it, folding her legs under her. There was a rip in her jeans, just over her knees, smooth brown skin peeked out. Her socks were kicked off and she wiggled red-painted toes absently, a ring around one of them.

Tipping her head back, she looked up at him, quirking her head to invite him over.

He was slow to move at first, but eventually, he was sitting across from her, watching her curiously. He should've known his little witch would surprise him. She had a habit of that.

"Twenty questions first?" she suggested.

He nodded shortly.

That first night, it was mostly her who talked. He wasn't ready yet, wasn't comfortable enough to share too sincerely. He made jokes and he teased her and he avoided the hard truths, but he would get there, eventually. And maybe this was enough for now. He could hear her breathing, hear her voice, see her fingers tapping at her knees.

Later, when she fell asleep there on the pillow bed, he reached across, stroked her hair behind her ear, letting his finger linger on her cheek, and he knew… In some weird, twisted way, he'd been lucky. Maybe not to end up here, maybe not to die in the first place, but that he had Bonnie there with him. Even as his hope dwindled and he questioned his sanity daily, all he had to do was look at her, see her breathing, hear her heart, and he knew he could make it one more day. Just one more.

Maybe they would never make it out. Maybe they were stuck there for eternity. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

Damon closed his eyes and just listened.

_Thump… thump… thump…_

Her heart lulled him to sleep, and he couldn't thank her enough for it.

[**End**.]


	10. the man I was (is not who I am)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: romance/family  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 4,026  
**prompt**: "I swear it was an accident." – absentlyabbie (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Bonnie's home from Whitmore for a weekend alone with Damon, only to find his not-so-dead niece, Sara, is looking for a reunion.

**_the man I was (is not who I am)_**  
-1/1-

Bonnie's week had been _long_. Unnaturally and ridiculously long. Which was why she was so glad to be pulling up to the boarding house. Yes, it was late and it had taken a while to get there and yes, she definitely could have used the sleep more than the drive, but she wanted _her _bed, not the single back at Whitmore. Rubbing her eyes, she climbed from the car, hauling her weekend bag over her shoulder and closing the door behind her. She walked into the quiet house without knocking and, after leaving her bag at the bottom of the stairs, made her way into the kitchen. According to a text from Caroline, Stefan would be busy with her for the weekend, so Bonnie didn't expect to see him anytime soon.

The kitchen was empty; she flipped on the light switch, making her way to the fridge to search for something to drink. She was surprised to find a near full jug of orange juice as well as some fresh fruit in the crisper. Usually, the boys forgot about those things, which meant she had to make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on _human _food. Taking a swig of orange juice straight from the jug, she eyed the fridge's contents to make sure there was enough for a sandwich. She wanted a shower, first and foremost, and then she planned on coming back down for something to eat. Her stomach grumbled agreeably.

Putting the juice carton back inside, Bonnie licked her lips, closed the door, and started for the stairs. She scooped up her bag and climbed the steps two at a time, swinging around at the top, hand on the banister, before making her way down the hall, humming absently under her breath.

When she threw open the door, she'd been expecting a very specific face. Pale, blue eyed, eyebrows that were entirely too animated. He would probably be reading, prone to getting lost in thick books, or sleeping already, old man that he often was. Instead she found a girl —brown skin and long brown hair— curled up on top of the blankets, a pillow tucked under her head.

Bonnie paused, blinked, and then took a step further into the room. Tipping her head, she raised an eyebrow, and dropped her bag to the floor; her grimoire, tucked beneath the clothes she'd brought, made a thunking noise as it met wood.

The noise must have been louder than she expected, because the girl jarred awake, sucking in a startled gasp.

Blinking sleepily, the girl brushed her hair back from her face, and stared up at Bonnie in confusion. "Uh… hi?"

Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. "_Hi_." She tapped a finger against her arm. "Mind telling me what you're doing in my bed?"

The girl looked down, cast her eyes around, and then looked back at her. "Oh! Oh, no, it's not—I mean, I'm not—" She made a distressed noise and sat up, shuffling across the bed so she was sitting on the edge. "I'm sorry. This must look really weird. I… You're Bonnie, right?" Tucking her hair behind her ears, she stood up and held a hand out. "I'm Sarah. Salvatore." Her nose wrinkled. "Well, I didn't grow up Sarah Salvatore, but apparently that's my last name. It's… a long story. Anyway, Damon told me about you."

"His niece," Bonnie said, nodding slowly. "But I thought…"

"That I was dead. Yeah. Apparently Stefan didn't pass the message on to Damon that I didn't die. It was a bit of a shock for him to meet me."

"I bet." The tension in Bonnie's shoulders dissipated quickly, and she reached out, shaking the girl's hand. "Well, it's good to meet you. Even if the situation is awkward, at best."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah offered a faint smile. "Sorry about the bed mix up. I swear it was an accident. I've just been… messed up for the last while. Ever since Enzo told me about my heritage, I guess I just… I needed to meet my supposed family. I spent a few months going over what my parents knew about my biological family, which was next to nothing, and then, well, kind of just showed up on the doorstep. Damon was… _shocked_, I guess. Anyway, I haven't been sleeping well and he told me I could use one of the rooms. This one just looked comfortable. God, I sound like Goldilocks."

Bonnie snorted. "It's fine. I just… didn't know anyone else was going to be here. Stefan took off for the weekend and I had a busy week at school…"

"Yeah, you're at Whitmore, right?" She smiled, shrugging. "Like I said, Damon mentioned you. He actually talks about you a lot."

"Any idea where he is?" Bonnie wondered, glancing around.

"Oh, um, actually, I thought he was driving out to meet you." Her brow furrowed. "Something about a proper family reunion or…" She shook her head. "I don't know. He just said he'd be back and in the morning we'd get to meet over pancakes."

Bonnie barely tapped down the desire to roll her eyes at that last thing, and instead reached into her pocket for her phone. Hitting her speed dial, she raised it to her ear and waited as it rang.

"Y'ello?" he answered cheerfully.

Her lips twitched. "Hey, where are you right now?"

"I'm… on the road, halfway to you. _Why?_ What's up?"

"Turn around. I'm at the boarding house."

"What? What're you doing there?"

"It was a long week, I was tired, I missed you; take your pick. So I made the obvious choice and I came home."

She could practically feel him grinning on the other side of the phone.

"Imagine my surprise when I found another girl in my bed." She waved at Sarah to reassure her and waited for Damon's response.

"Pretty girl though, right? The Salvatore genes strike again," he boasted nonchalantly.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. Anyway, come home. I'm going to get Sarah set up in a different room, since _somebody_ forgot hospitality means making sure one of these stuffy spare rooms actually has sheets on the bed. And we're not having pancakes tomorrow either."

"Come on, Bon, it's practically a staple by now."

"_Nope_. French toast, maybe. If you're lucky."

"You're breaking my heart."

"I'm sure." Walking out of the room, Bonnie tucked the phone between her ear and her shoulder and walked down the hall to the linen closet. "So? Finding Sarah at your door must've been a surprise…"

"Yeah, small one. Let's just say Stefan and I _really _need to have a little chat."

Pulling out fresh linens, Bonnie made her way to one of the brighter bedrooms and pushed open the door, flicking on the light. "Damon, you know what you were like… Without your humanity on, how you felt about what happened in 1994… He might've had his reasons."

"Then, sure. Recently? _No_."

She sighed, but nodded faintly. "Okay. You're right. You should talk to him. And I do mean talk, not immediately attack."

"So breaking his neck is a _no_…?"

"I think we both know you'll do it even if I tell you not to," she muttered. "All I'm saying is maybe you should give him a chance to explain his side of things. You never know, he might admit he was wrong to keep it from you for this long."

He let out a long, disagreeable noise, but it was the best she could hope for.

"We'll talk about it more when you get home," she said.

"Fine," he agreed. "Hey, did you eat? I picked up groceries."

She smiled then. "I saw. Very proactive since we didn't _technically _make plans for me to come out this weekend."

"What can I say, I'm an optimist?"

Bonnie scoffed. "Uh-huh. Well, I'm going to make myself a sandwich just as soon as I'm done getting the spare room ready."

"Good. I'll be home in an hour."

"Okay. Drive safely."

He chuckled under his breath.

"I know." She rolled her eyes. "You're a vampire, you'll survive a crash. Doesn't mean I don't worry. See you soon."

"Love you," he sing-songed.

Smiling despite herself, she nodded. "Love you too."

Hanging up, she tucked her phone back in her pocket and turned toward the bed.

"I'll help," Sarah said from the doorway. She stepped closer, taking up the sheet and unfolding it. "So… Damon never really said… Are you, uh, like him?"

"A vampire?" Bonnie laughed. "_No_. Actually, I'm a witch." As if to prove a point, she waved a hand and the sheet left Sarah's hand, spreading itself out and tucking in around the edges of the mattress. A cover sheet and blanket followed while the pillows were soon stripped of their old pillow cases and dressed in fresh ones. As she lowered her hands, the bed was perfectly made, not a wrinkle in sight.

Sarah's brows were hiked as she made an impressed noise. "_Wow_."

Bonnie smiled lightly. "I was just about to make something to eat. Hungry?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, that'd be great."

Nodding, Bonnie walked out of the room, Sarah trailing behind her. "So, you know I go to Whitmore, what do you do?"

"Oh, I'm an art major, at Duke University." At Bonnie's interested expression, she nodded. "Yeah, I just had a few pieces up at an exhibition, actually."

"What kind of art?"

"Uh, all kinds, really. I've been trying to get into photography recently."

"Yeah?" Bonnie nodded. "That's cool. Damon likes art. He'd probably like to see some of your stuff."

"He does?" she asked, her curiosity peaked.

Bonnie smiled gently. "Did you guys get to talk much before he left?"

"Not really." She tucked her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "I feel like I had so many questions and he looked really overwhelmed… I think that's why he went to get you. Back-up." She rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

"He's not the most comfortable person when it comes to emotional family stuff. His history with it isn't… great." She pulled open the fridge and started taking out everything they would need to make a sandwich, handing it to Sarah to put on the island. "He and Stefan have kind of a rocky past, but they've been working on it."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I kind of got that feeling from what Enzo said."

"Have you met Stefan?" Bonnie wondered, moving to a drawer to pull out a couple of knives.

"Not yet, no. I just sort of showed up. I guess I thought they'd both be here. It wasn't much of a game plan, honestly. I just kind of jumped into it, head first."

She laughed a little. "Another Salvatore trait."

Sarah half-smiled. "What are they like?" she wondered, leaning forward, arms resting on the island counter.

Bonnie thought on it a little. "Well, Stefan's… quiet, brooding, protective, serious, loyal… But he can also be fun and sarcastic and a really good friend. He had plans this weekend, with his girlfriend, Caroline, but I'm sure they'd put them off if they knew you were here." Bonnie stared at her searchingly. "I can call them, ask them to come back."

Sarah shifted her feet for a moment, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. She grabbed up the jar of mayonnaise and a few slices of bread. "It's fine. Maybe I'll just meet Damon this time and, if it goes well, I can meet Stefan next time."

Nodding her head, Bonnie grabbed up a block of cheese and started slicing off a few pieces. "Now Damon… He's reckless and sarcastic, passionate, protective, defensive, loyal, he will make a joke out of anything that is even _remotely _serious, he's egotistical and smart and _way_ more emotional than he thinks he is… He's also kinder, and he can be gentle and sweet and thoughtful, but only when he doesn't think he's being all of those things. And—"

She stopped when she realized Sarah was staring at her, her mouth quirked up.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just… You sound just like him when he talks about you."

"He said I was stubborn, didn't he?" Bonnie rolled her eyes. "He always says that like it's a bad thing. But you know why I'm so stubborn? Because he's so pigheaded sometimes. _Ugh_. He just, he gets an idea in his head and he never lets it go. Like a dog with a bone."

Sarah's smile only widened. "Sounds like you guys have a pretty interesting relationship."

She scoffed. "You have no idea."

Tipping her head curiously, she said, "So tell me about it."

Bonnie paused, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "I want to know about him. And it looks like if I want to know him, I should probably know you too. So… No pressure, I mean, you can say no."

Bonnie gave it some thought as she spread mustard over one slice of bread. "It's kind of complicated. See, vampires and witches are kind of natural enemies…" And so she told her their story. What started as just about her and Damon became so much bigger. She had to explain about Elena, Stefan, Caroline, the history between all of them, the various enemies that blew into town and never really left. Katherine and her history with the Salvatore boys. Some of it, Sarah already knew about; Enzo had loose lips. Some of it was new though. She was careful not to talk too much about certain things; she wasn't going to spill all of Damon's secrets. Those were his to tell. But anything to do with her, she was comfortable sharing. By the time she was done, they'd polished off their sandwiches and a couple cups of tea.

Sarah was getting tired though, Bonnie could see it the strain around her eyes.

"You should get some sleep," she suggested. "Tomorrow's probably going to be pretty busy. I guarantee you Damon will drown you in Salvatore history."

Sarah smiled. "I'm kind of looking forward to it." Still, she pushed off the stool and stretched her back as she stood. As she was moving toward the doorway, she looked back. "Thanks, Bonnie, for talking to me."

"Sure." Collecting the dishes, Bonnie smiled at her. "You're family."

Sarah ducked her head a little, mouth twitching, and walked off down the hall toward the stairs.

Bonnie filled the sink with their dishes and left them to soak in hot, soapy water. She put away the condiments and leftover sandwich fillings, wiped off the counter, and then started cleaning the dishes. She'd just put the last tea cup on the rack and was rinsing out the sink when two arms wrapped around her waist snugly.

"Hey," Damon greeted, his voice low against her ear.

Bonnie relaxed, leaning back against him. "Hey." Tipping her head, she stared up at him searchingly. "You okay?"

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Tired."

"Me too." Grabbing up a dish towel, she dried her hands off and then turned her body around to face him better. "Come on… Let's go to bed. I vote we both get a good night's sleep and tomorrow you can sit down to breakfast with your only living relative."

"Sounds good… How do you think she takes her pancakes?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "With strawberries and whip cream fangs."

He chuckled lowly and wrapped his arms around her.

Impatient as ever, he lifted her up and rushed them upstairs to their bedroom, dropping her back down to her feet as the door was kicked closed behind them.

Stretching her arms above her head, Bonnie walked backwards toward the bathroom. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower…"

Damon smirked at her, enjoying the show as she stripped off her clothes, before he joined her, tearing off his shirt and scooping her up as she laughed playfully.

While the bathroom she shared with Caroline and Elena at Whitmore was nothing to scoff at, it lacked a certain luxury that Damon's had, even beyond having the man himself there to share in it. Maybe it was just the space or the familiar comfort it offered, but there was something about being at home that felt better than on campus. She was happy to be back and immersed in school, but she found herself relieved when she had a chance to come home for the weekends.

Sometimes she was still surprised by how much the boarding house had come to mean to her; it wasn't so long ago that it had been a place she wanted to avoid, having every reason to despise its occupants. But since the prison world and coming back, since building this relationship with Damon, she'd never felt more comfortable than she did when they were together. The old halls that echoed with silence now seemed to have life in them again, filled with the very real voices of all the people she cared about. Their lives were still in danger entirely too often and Elena wasn't exactly jumping for joy over the relationship status of her best friend and ex-boyfriend, but, while Bonnie respected that, she also recognized that if she wanted to be happy, she needed to make choices, and right now, she was happiest with Damon, regardless of who else that might hurt. There was no guarantee that they would last or it wouldn't blow up in their faces, but it was worth fighting for.

Damon massaged across her shoulders, rubbing shower gel across her skin as he went. His hands slid lower down her back and around to her stomach as he stepped closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to her ear. "I missed you…"

Bonnie leaned back against him, covering his hands with her own, soapy bubbles making his skin slippery. "Sarah said you were driving out to get me… She thought you were overwhelmed with everything."

He was quiet for a moment, letting out a faint hum. "Maybe a little… Not every day that the niece I thought I killed shows up on my doorstep." His eyes flashed wide as he wiggled his eyebrows, but she could read the tension around his mouth. "Figured if there was anyone who could understand what that felt like, it was you."

Bonnie grabbed up a loofah and covered it in his favorite, and entirely too expensive, shower gel. She turned around to face him and started scrubbing it over his shoulders and arms and down his chest. "It was different with Abby. She _left_ me… And, honestly, I think she was happier for it. She came back out of obligation, but she never really fit here, with me." She shrugged, but there was still a ball of emotion lodged in her throat when she thought about it.

Damon's hand rubbed up and down her arms soothingly. "Yeah, well, she's an idiot. _Really_. Leaving you once was dumb enough, but twice? We should probably have her fitted for a straitjacket."

Her mouth twitched before she shook her head. "Anyway, my point was that Sarah _wants _to know you… And even if this all came out of something really dark and complicated, I think it could be good, for both of you, to have this chance to really talk and air out what happened. You can't bring her parents back, and you can't change her life, but from what I saw, she's pretty happy with her life as it is. She just wants to know more about the family she came from." She tapped his chest. "You can give her that."

He nodded, mouth set in a line. "Yes, but, I don't know if you noticed… I don't exactly have a great track record with family…"

"It's come to my attention," she said wryly. "And I'm not going to argue with you. You're right, you don't. So change it." She stared up at him seriously. "It's your _choice_. Who you want to be to her, how much you want to share, all of it."

"So selective history is an option…"

"Of course it is. Everything's an option. You can be honest with her and hope for the best, or you can lie. Much like Stefan did with you."

"Ah-hah. See." He smirked. "I knew you'd use that against me."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Pointing out your own logic is not using it against you. I'm merely using examples you can relate to…" She shrugged and stepped back, bringing him with her so he'd stand under the spray, the water washing away the collection of white bubbles across his frame.

Damon grabbed up his shampoo and started scrubbing it into his hair. "All right, so say I'm completely honest with her… She probably already knows what happened with her parents, if Enzo's the one that talked to her. But what if I tell her everything, about every_one_… What if she rejects me?"

Staring up at him a long, thoughtful moment, she considered the potential fallout. "Family doesn't promise acceptance. Maybe she does learn about your past, maybe you tell her exactly how things happened with her parents, an unfiltered confession without Enzo's weird grudge against Stefan to color things… And maybe she decides you're not someone she wants in her life. It could happen. And it'll hurt for a while. It'll make you wonder if telling her was the right thing to do. But at least you'll know you were honest, you started off on the right foot, and you put in real effort." She reached up for him, cupping his face gently. "I've seen you at your worst, I know about the things you've done, and I'm here. Because I've seen your growth and I know who you are beyond all of that. I know you have good in you. Maybe she sees that or maybe she doesn't. Either way, it doesn't change that who you are today is not who you were before. What you did matters, just as much as what you're _doing_. I don't approve of all of your actions, but I'm proud of the man you are today."

He swallowed tightly, before pushing out a grin. "You're getting sappy on me, Bennett."

"Please, you are the biggest sap I know!" she snorted.

"That's character defamation and I won't have it in my own shower!" he declared, dabbing soap on the end of her nose.

Bonnie scrunched up her face and elbowed him lightly.

Damon smiled, ducking his head down to kiss her. "Thank you." He shifted his head under the spray then, and she reached up, running her fingers through his hair to rinse out the shampoo.

The rest of their shower was spent washing up and stealing kisses before finally climbing out. In a towel, she sat atop the counter and brushed her teeth while he stood just to the right of her knee, doing the same. Because it always made her laugh, he pulled his vamp face to brush his fangs in full and Bonnie had to cover her mouth so she wouldn't spit out a gob of toothpaste. He looked ridiculous, and oddly cuter for it.

Teeth brushed and what passed for pajamas on, they made their way to bed.

Bonnie watched affectionately, half-smiling as she rubbed lotion into her skin, while Damon sat up against the headboard, reading an old, faded book, the spine lovingly cracked. His hair was still wet and a bead of water dripped down the side of his neck to trickle down his bare chest.

Climbing in beside him, she shuffled over and rested her head on Damon's shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting it out on a content sigh. This was exactly what she'd been looking forward to and craving all week.

"So what are the chances you remembered to grab whip cream for this pancake breakfast you're making all of us?" she wondered.

Damon grinned down at her, snapped his book closed and put it aside before he turned over and kissed her, laughing happily against her mouth.

It was good to be home.

[**End**.]

* * *

**note 1**: _it was a lot of fun writing sarah, especially bonding with bonnie. also, cute, established, domestic bamon is adorable. so i hope you enjoyed that!_

* * *

**note 2**: _so, here's the thing. i really appreciate everyone who is reading, but there's been a noticeable decline in reviews. now if that's just a lack of readership, i get it. but my view count is pretty stable and i also know that when a story is updated on the regular, it an be easy not to review because you expect the new chapter to be put up quickly. and i plan to continue updating regularly. all i'm asking is that you try and leave a review. it doesn't need to be anything huge, just let me know you're out there and you're reading. because writing 50 individual oneshots is by no means easy. it takes a lot of time and energy. and as much as i enjoy sharing them all with you, i'd like to hear if you're enjoying them too. so please, if you can, leave a review!_

_thanks!_

\- **lee | fina**


	11. speak up (or shut up)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: romance/drama  
**rating**: pg-13  
**word count**: 1,087  
**prompt**: "You heard me. Take. It. Off." - **absentlyabbie** (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: Damon's feeling a little insecure about whether his relationship with Bonnie is a relationship at all. Of course, he couldn't just _say_ that. That would be too easy.

_**speak up (or shut up)**_  
-1/1-

Damon could count on one finger the amount of people he had been jealous of in his very long life. Sure, there were episodes of envy here or there, but real, to the bone jealousy had only occurred with one person. And that had always, and, he assumed, _would_ always, be Stefan. His brother just had a knack for being and having everything Damon wanted.

Now, he could add one more to the list.

Jeremy Gilbert.

Yeah, he was surprised too.

What could Little Gilbert possibly have that Damon was jealous of?

The answer to that was as simple as it was complicated.

_Bonnie_.

Now, it was complicated because _technically_ Jer-Bear _didn_'_t _have Bonnie. He'd skipped town to play starving artist somewhere else and he and Bonnie had come to a somewhat amicable end. So far as Damon knew, Jeremy wasn't in the picture, or even in the photo album, as far as Bonnie's love life was concerned. He could confirm that to some extent considering he was the one currently warming Bonnie's bed. Pretty phenomenally, if he did say so himself. Up to this point, he hadn't had any complains, worries, or concerns. Surprising as it was, things were going well for them. A brief respite from the chaos of the town meant they were getting plenty of time to together to explore... _whatever _this was. So Damon was on cloud nine.

Until she walked out of the bathroom in a shirt that smelled faintly of cheap cologne and pencil shavings.

_Jeremy_.

Damon looked over from where he was sprawled out on her bed, sheet slung low on his hips. He lowered the book he'd been perusing and frowned. "_Bonnie_…" he said slowly. "What's that?"

Rubbing lotion into her hands, she absently flipping off the bathroom light. "What's what?" She walked toward the bed, the loose fabric of the shirt draping across her, her legs beautifully bare.

"What you're wearing." He snapped the book shut and put it away on the bedside table, where the last book he'd finished hadn't yet been returned to his bookcase at home.

"This?" She plucked at the center of the shirt and shrugged. "I don't know. An old shirt. I've had it for a while. It's comfy."

His lips turned down. "Where'd you get it?"

Brow furrowed, she climbed onto the bed, knees bent and legs tucked beneath her. "What's the big deal, Damon? It's a shirt."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "It's _his _shirt. I can _smell _it."

Ducking her head down, she took a sniff and shook her head. "Really? I've washed it."

"Yeah, well, his stink must linger," he muttered.

Rolling her eyes, she tipped her head at him, an eyebrow raised. "_Really_?"

He pursed his lips in answer and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't like it. Get rid of it."

With a snort, she tipped her head back. "Excuse me?"

He stared back at her. "You heard me. Take. It. _Off_."

Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. "That sounded a lot like an _order_… so I'm going to suggest you rethink your _tone_."

Gritting his teeth, he glared at her. "You're wearing another man's _clothes_, Bonnie. My tone is _exactly _what it should be."

"I'm wearing a shirt that I found in my dresser. A shirt I've had for a while. One I don't even _associate _with Jeremy. And it is _comfortable_. Which means no, I'm not taking it off and I'm not getting rid of it." Setting her chin, she stared down at him, brow raised in challenge. "If that's going to be an issue, you know where the door is."

He scoffed as he sat up. "So that's it? You're picking a _shirt _over me?"

"You're picking a shirt to argue over." She shrugged. "If this is the sword you wanna die on, _fine_."

He frowned. "You have to get where I'm coming from here… It's _Jeremy's _shirt."

"And Jeremy isn't here. He's not the one in my _bed_." She stared at him seriously. "Damon, you are making something big out of _nothing_. If you're feeling insecure about our relationship and you need to talk about it, then _talk _about it, but don't use inanimate objects as a way to air out your issues."

Grinding his teeth, he leaned back, head resting on the pillow, fingers tapping at his chest. A few tense beats passed before he took a deep breath. "Is it a relationship?" he asked, staring hard at the ceiling.

"What?"

"Is. It. A. _Relationship?_" He glanced at her, briefly, and swallowed the sudden urge to fidget. "We never really… _defined _things."

She was quiet for a moment. "Do you _want _it to be…?"

Damon sighed, long and exasperated. "Would I be fighting with you over a shirt if I didn't?"

He wasn't looking at her, but he knew she was smiling that amused 'you're an idiot' smile of hers. He frowned, rolling his eyes to himself. The things he put up with for love…

She said nothing, but he felt the shift of the bed. And then a flash of color passed his line of sight and she'd rolled over so her head was resting on his chest. When he looked down, the shirt had been tossed away, nothing but soft brown skin in sight. His mouth curled at the corners triumphantly.

"That was symbolic. I'm still keeping the shirt," she told him, chuckling a little when he pursed his lips at her. "But… that doesn't change the fact that I want this to be a relationship too. Just not one where you feel like you should be jealous of anyone else." She shook her head, her stubborn little chin rubbing against him. "There _is _no one else. When I'm with you, I'm _with _you. I don't want to play games. So if you're in this, you need to be 100 percent in this." She stared up at him meaningfully, her brows hiked.

And he didn't have anything of Elena's to toss across the room to show her he was over it, over _her_, but maybe he didn't need to. He shuffled down the bed and wrapped his arms around Bonnie, pressing his forehead to hers. "_Done_." He dragged his fingers down her back, smirking as she shivered. "Now that that's settled, I think a _celebration _is in order."

She laughed under her breath. "I'm sure you do." But as she hooked her leg around his hip, he didn't think she was really complaining at all.

[**End**.]

* * *

**author's note**: _huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who left a review last time! thank you so much! it's very encouraging to see you're all still reading and i really appreciate you leaving a little something to let me know! this one's quite a bit shorter than the last, but i'm not a huge fan of jealousy-fic, and i really wanted to highlight that building their relationship on trust and respect is important. so thank you for reading!_

_for those curious, i officially have more than 10,000 words written on the next update to 'you know I will adore you ('til eternity),' but it needs some editing and this is the last week of school, so i have a couple essays i need to write first and foremost. thank you for your patience!_

**\- Lee | Fina**


	12. don't shiver (don't give up)

**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**genre**: friendship/drama/romance  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 2,852  
**prompt**: "Wanna dance?" – absentlyabbie (Tumblr)**  
summary**: Bonnie and Damon are on the outs after he betrays her by bringing Kai back from the 1903 prison world. But Damon's never been good at being ignored.

**_don't shiver (don't give up)  
_**-1/1-

Bonnie stood on the outskirts off the wedding, far enough away from people that she wasn't uncomfortable but not so far that someone might notice she was avoiding anything. Not that a whole lot of people we paying attention to her anyway, given the event and the unnaturally dramatic lives of those in attendance. She was happy for Alaric, kind of. Well, she was glad he was happy. She couldn't exactly say she knew Jo all that well, but she knew Alaric and his life had been anything but easy. So, really, she wished him all the best. She wouldn't be surprised if he packed up and got as far away from Mystic Falls as he could. Somehow raising a family in her hometown sounded like the worst possible idea. If he really wanted a fresh start, he needed to get out, and quick. Otherwise loyalty would keep him longer than he should. Much like herself.

"_Hey_."

Bonnie stiffened, her fingers tightening around the stem of her champagne flute. Shifting her weight to her opposite foot, she pursed her lips and kept her eyes focused forward, on the people milling about, some picking a hors d'oeuvres off little plates while others were dancing on a makeshift floor.

A heavy sigh came from her left. "You gonna ignore me _all_ night?"

"Not just tonight," she muttered.

"Bonnie, come on… I said I was sorry."

"No. _You didn't_."

"It was _implied_…"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Go away, Damon."

"Look, I messed up. I _do _that. I screw up and then you get mad, I learn from my mistakes, you forgive me, and we go on being the unlikely duo. _Right?_"

Bonnie clenched her teeth, her eyes narrowing.

"Will you at least _look _at me?"

No, she wouldn't, because despite everything Damon had the most puppy-dog eyes she'd ever seen, even giving Matt a run for his money. So instead, she murmured, "I need air," and turned on her heel to walk away.

"We're _outside_," he called after her.

Ignoring him, Bonnie kept walking, knocking back the rest of her champagne and leaving the empty glass on a random table. She left the general area of the party, breathing a little easier when the noise of everyone else started to ebb away. She could still hear the music, broadcasted over the speakers, but even that seemed distant. She wasn't sure where she was going, she just needed to be away. Running her fingers over her hair, she absently moved behind a cabin, her magic bouncing around inside her, eager to be let loose.

She wasn't surprised when hardly a minute or two passed before he was beside her again, leaning against the cabin wall, just inches away.

A beat passed, and then another, and she wondered how long it would take him to spit out whatever was bothering him. They could go through hours like this back in the prison world, where something started eating away at Damon but getting him to actually _talk _about it was like pulling teeth. He said what he wanted, freely, unless it was personal. Unless it made him feel _vulnerable_. And then he clammed up, awkward and unsure about how to say it or how it would be received. She thought they were mostly past that. It was in his nature to avoid talking about things that made him feel insecure, but he'd gotten better at talking to her, even if he couldn't quite look her in the eye sometimes.

"I didn't want to let him out," he finally said. "My mother was pressuring me to. She wanted to go back for the others. I tried avoiding it, I kept putting it off, but she was… _persistent_. And I know that's not an excuse, but I was in a difficult position, all right? She was the only one who could bring Stefan back, or, at least, I _thought _she could. So I did something _stupid_ and I reneged on our deal and I know that it… _hurt _you. But Bonnie, you have to know, I didn't want that. I would never—"

"Wouldn't you? _Haven't _you?" She turned to look at him, her eyes sharp. "This isn't the first time what I wanted or needed was sacrificed."

He winced, his eyes falling to the ground, and he swallowed tightly. "I know that."

"Then why did you _do _it?" She stared at him searchingly, even as he refused to meet her gaze. "I thought it would be different when I came back. I thought _you _would be different."

He looked up then, his jaw ticking. "I _am _different."

"Really?" she scoffed. "Because it looks like you're doing everything you used to do. Me, my wants, my feelings get shoved aside for whatever _you _need in the moment. Only this time you actually _apologized_, and I'm just supposed to accept it. Because we're supposed to be friends now."

"We _are _friends. I made a mistake, I get that. But that doesn't change _this_—" He motioned between them. "It doesn't change _us_."

"Yes," she insisted, staring up at him. "It does." Pushing off the wall, she started walking away, but Damon had always been stubborn, and he flashed ahead, appearing in front of her.

"Don't do that."

Putting her hands to her hips, she raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"_Dismiss _me. Like I'm no longer worth your time." He stared at her searchingly. "I'm going to make mistakes, it's what I do. I'm hotheaded and impulsive, all shining qualities that _someone _semi-grew to like. Now what I did _sucks_, and I regret that it hurt you, but that doesn't mean that I don't think about you or worry about you or that I haven't been trying to come up with a plan to make it up to you. Whether that's car-bombing Kai when he least expects it or something a little more complicated and drawn out. But I'll do something, I'll make it up to you, I _promise_."

Bonnie turned her gaze away. "Are you done?"

"Depends. Do you forgive me?"

"No."

"Then _no_."

As she huffed and moved to step around him, Damon reached out, his hands finding her shoulders and stilling her. They both knew that if she wanted, she could send him an aneurysm strong enough to bring him to his knees, but she didn't. She stared up at him, glaring, her mouth set in a frown.

"C'mon, tell me what you want," he persisted. "What do I have to do to make this up to you?"

"Time-travel, preferably. To the exact moment where you decided, oh, hey, what a great idea, let's bring not only _Kai _back from the prison world, but all of my mother's Ripper buddies. That sounds pleasant, and not at all like something Bonnie would tell me to never do under any circumstances _ever_."

"Listen, if I had your judgy little voice as my own Jiminy Cricket all the time, I wouldn't do a _lot _of things. But because I don't, I do things that you wouldn't approve of, too often to count. Sometimes those things work out and sometimes they don't. Case in point, all the little Rippers are _dead_."

"Yes, great, a problem we didn't actually have until you released them has been solved. Would you like a standing ovation now or later?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "We've obviously been spending too much time together. I don't remember you being this sarcastic before…"

Shaking her head, she stared up at him, eyebrow arched. "You let Kai out, Damon. _Kai_. Do you even _remember _what he—?"

"Of course I remember. I remember exactly what it felt like. You _made _me feel that." His eyes flashed wide, darting around her face, filled with emotion. "I remember every inch of that blade going into my gut just like you did. And I've had a few _lovely_ nightmares in HD quality about what it must've been like for you, stuck over there, alone, or running for your life. So yes, Bonnie, I do have some _tiny _idea of what he did to you. I'm not wiping the slate clean on the Kai-front, all right? I'm trying to apologize and ask you to _work _with me on this. I don't want him free. I want him dead just as much as you do, but I can't do that alone. And I don't know if you've noticed, but the Scooby Gang is virtually useless when Stefan and Caroline are playing at Humanity-less, Murdering Soulmates. So if you could just cut me a _little _slack, we can get rid of Kai and go back to that nifty little thing we were building right before I stepped in it. Sound good?"

She stared at nothing, just past his shoulder, her brow still furrowed and a headache crawling across her temples.

"I'm sorry," he insisted, his voice a little lower, heavy with sincerity. "I know, in the past… I haven't always put you first. In fact, on the short list, you were usually stuck somewhere near the bottom. That wasn't fair to you. Although in my defense, you usually put yourself there…"

When she didn't respond, he sighed. His hands slid down her arms and pried her fingers from her hips, twining them with his own and giving them a little shake. "I know I have a lot to prove and to make up for, and maybe it'll take some time before you believe me, but… You matter. All right? On Damon Salvatore's priority list, Bonnie Bennett is currently taking my top spot. So just… _please_. At least _try _to forgive me."

Her eyes fell for a long moment, watching the long green grass sway in the breeze, and then she turned her head, and she looked down at her hands in his, his thumbs dragging gently over her knuckles. When she looked up at him, he was staring back at her, his eyes a little wide, and more hopeful than she'd seen in a while. It wasn't so long ago that she'd been standing on the fringes of the wedding reception, uncomfortable with having people too close. But that wasn't the case with Damon. If anything, having him near was usually a comfort.

She wasn't done being angry with him. He had a lot to make up for. Lying to her, going behind her back, doing exactly what he promised he wouldn't do… But despite all of that, some part of her honestly believed he meant it, that he regretted what he'd done and he wanted to make it up to her. In the past, she never would have believed him. She'd scoff at Elena or whoever tried to tell her they thought he was being sincere. But she knew him better now, knew his cues and his ticks and so much of what made him who he was. Knew things he'd never shared with anyone else. And all of that made her feel just a little better about trusting him. Because truth be told, despite what happened, she _did _trust him. She was angry at him and she wasn't quite ready to forgive him, but she still trusted him.

"I'll try," she said, giving a short, stiff nod.

He smiled slowly, his mouth curling up at the corners, and looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Rolling her eyes, she reminded him, "'Try' doesn't mean I _do_. Just that I'll _think _about it."

He shook his head. "No, in Bonnie speak, that means you're still holding out hope for me. Your big, witchy heart still has a soft spot for me, doesn't it? Admit it."

With a scoff, she said, "I can take it back."

"Nope. No take-backs." He tugged on her hands and raised one up, putting it on his shoulder before he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"What're you doing?" she asked as he started moving them around.

"Dance with me?" he asked, but he was already humming along to the distance noise of the band, moving them in a jagged square.

Bonnie snorted, and bit her lip to hide her amusement, but she didn't stop him. She let him lead her around the long grass, twirling her at random and dipping her back dramatically. She knew she shouldn't, but she laughed. Looking up at him, his cheeks flushed and his tie pulled loose, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, she found herself a little enamored with the picture he made. Carefree and happy, caught up in the moment.

When one song ended, another began, the beat much slower, and he pulled her in closer, his fingers sweeping up her back as he turned them around in looping circles, quick enough that she almost felt like she was floating, and then he slowed down and eased her back in a gentle dip.

When he brought her back up, she said, "I'm still mad at you."

"I know." His fingers tapped lightly against the back of her hand. "But you'll forgive me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because." He wiggled his eyebrows down at her. "It's _us_."

She stared at him curiously.

"Kai might be wrong about a lot of things. _Most _things, really. But he got a few things right." He gazed back at her, mouth upturned in a half-smile. "I do something stupid, you _tell_ me I'm stupid, we argue, you leave, and then, when you've cooled off, you come back… That's how we show our love, Bon-Bon."

Humming, she said, "Maybe we should work on a better system. Like one where you don't do something stupid."

He chuckled under his breath, and she blamed the cool breeze for the shiver that crept down her back. "Where's the fun in that?" he wondered, grinning down at her.

It was part of his charm, she supposed. Part of what made them who they were. And despite everything, he was right, she did like him, even the impulsive parts of him. They weren't always convenient, but it was who he was. And in her own way, maybe she balanced that out from time to time.

_Still_. "You know, one day, I might not…"

His brow furrowed.

"Come back," she clarified.

His expression sobered then, and he took a deep breath. "Well, if that day ever comes, I'll just have to be the one that finds you."

She wondered if that wasn't exactly what he'd done though. Instead of giving her the time to think it through, to work through her issues and then track him down, he'd come looking for her. And maybe that said a lot more than she'd thought it did. Maybe Damon was showing her, in his own way, that he _did _care and that, even when he made mistakes, he wanted to clean them up after. It was better than before, when clean-up was left to everyone else and he was all too eager to pretend he couldn't care less about the fallout. This Damon cared. About his mistakes and her and their friendship. Maybe more than he was willing to admit. More than she was ready to hear.

The sun was setting, and it wouldn't be too long before the stars crawled out to greet them. In a few hours, a new day would start.

"One more dance," she told him. "And then I want cake."

He smiled, a quiet acceptance this time, and led them around the grass for one more spin. When the music petered out, he kept hold of her hand, their fingers knotted together, and led her back toward the reception in comfortable silence. It was still crowded and her heart skittered nervously with all the people, but Damon just held on a little tighter. He scooped up two plates of cake in his free hand and led them away, to where the chairs were still lined up for the wedding ceremony, taking a seat in the back row. She wasn't surprised when he took up pointing out how gaudy some of the decorations were or how cheesy he thought Alaric's vows sounded. It was just in his nature to complain, even when she knew he'd put a lot of work into his best man speech and she'd seen him grinning happily during the ceremony. Too much emotion and sincerity made Damon uncomfortable, she understood that; she just learned to read between the lines.

However, knowing Damon, even being his friend, didn't prepare her for when he would smear vanilla cake over her cheek.

"_Damon_!" she complained.

"It's a wedding," he defended, licking icing off his thumb.

She glared at him, but something warm broke in her chest, and with it came a flood of relief. That even if things weren't going as planned; even if they didn't always see eye to eye; even if they sometimes fought worse than cats and dogs; in the end, they would always come back to each other. He would find her or she would find him, and together, they would fix it, whatever it took. The unlikely duo. She wouldn't have it any other way.

[**End**.]

* * *

**author's note**: _sorry for the wait, but on the bright side, i finally finished the update to **'til eternity**, so if you haven't read it yet, i'd be honored if you would._

_*title is from **Rachel Taylor**'s song "Light a Fire."_

_thanks so much for reading! please, try to leave a review; they're my lifeblood! :) _

\- **lee | fina**


	13. give me that something (feel so pure)

**genre**: drama/angst/romance  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 3,238  
**prompt**: "I thought you were dead." – absentlyabbie (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: A surprise attack leaves the boarding house in shambles, and a devastated Bonnie wondering if Damon survived.

**_give me that something (feel so pure)  
_**-1/1-

Bonnie's head was still spinning. One second, she was standing in the living room, sharing a bourbon with Damon as they talked strategy on how to take on the current issue of newly-released prison world Rippers plaguing the town, and the next the ceiling was aflame.

It all happened so quickly…

Damon was smirking at her from beside the fireplace. "Come on, Bon-Bon… You, me, we got this in the bag. My mom's bloodthirsty little friends don't have _anything _on us. They're reckless, which means they're _sloppy_. They'll drop a few barflies, some co-eds, we'll follow the bodies, you witchy-migraine their asses and I'll light them up. See? Case closed."

"Damon, it's not going to be that easy. They may be out of practice, but they're not new vampires. Yes, they're thirsty, but they also learned a lot about restraint and patience over there. Your mother said so herself; they had to pace themselves in order to survive… Imagine what they're capable of."

He dropped his head back and gave a long-suffering groan. "Why can't it be easy, huh? Unite mom with little brother, switch flipped, happy little Salvatore family from here on out…" He pursed his lips, his brow furrowed as he looked down into his bourbon glass.

"I don't think it's ever going to be like that, not in Mystic Falls. Happily ever after's aren't exactly common around here." She pushed up from the couch and walked toward him. "Look, Stefan will turn it on. Caroline will too. They're not our priority right now though. Kai is leading a horde of Rippers around Mystic Falls. He was a big enough problem all on his own, but with the Rippers too, I mean…" She shook her head. "We need to plan for more than just 'track and kill.'"

Humming, he knocked back his bourbon, and smacked his lips before turning his eyes to look at her. His gaze darted away then, expression taking on an uncharacteristically nervous edge. "You sure you're up for this? Last time you saw Kai…"

"I wanted to kill him. I still do." She fiddled with her glass. "I'm not happy with you, with the choice you made to let them out—"

Damon was quick to argue. "It wasn't _my _choice. I—"

Bonnie held up a hand. "I know. I've heard the _thirteen _messages you left on my phone…" Her mouth twitched faintly. "A little overzealous."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "You weren't answering."

"Because I was mad. I'm _still _mad. I'm not… I'm not ready to forgive you for that."

"I know. And I deserve that. I should've _talked _to you, at least. I just…" He swallowed tightly, glancing at her and then back to the floor. "I knew it would hurt you."

Bonnie shook her head. "What hurt me more was that you _lied _to me."

"Unintentionally."

"It doesn't _matter _what your intent was, Damon. The result was that you _lied_." She stared at him searchingly. "And I need time… I need to know I can trust you."

He looked up at her abruptly, his eyes wide. "Of _course _you can."

"Maybe sometimes. About some things. But not everything. Not when you _decide _not to talk to me…"

"I wasn't ready for you to look at me like you're looking at me _right now_." Leaving his glass on the mantel, he walked toward her. "Like I disappointed you."

Swallowing tightly, she said, "Because you did."

He winced. "I know. And I'll make it up to you. I _will_."

Lifting her chin, she shook her head. "Those are just words."

"_Bonnie_…" He reached for her, his hands on her arms.

Her eyes fell closed, a shaky breath leaving her.

"Please."

She wanted to. She _wanted _to forgive him. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not when it was still so fresh. Blinking her eyes open, she shrugged out of his hands. "We need to focus. Kai and all of those vampires are out there and we have no idea what they're doing. We need a plan. _This_… It can wait."

He stared at her, his jaw clenched tight, and she could see the inner-conflict of trying to decide whether to push her or let it be. Eventually, he gritted out, "_Fine_. But we're picking this up as soon as Crazy and his Blood Party are eating dirt."

She nodded, quick and short, and then walked to the drink cart to pour herself another bourbon. "I talked to Matt and Tyler. They're keeping an eye out for anything suspicious."

"Great," he scoffed. "The _mall_ cops are on it. I feel so much better."

Bonnie glared at him over her shoulder.

Just as she was opening her mouth to snark back at him, Damon went still suddenly, and turned his head. "Do you smell that?"

Bonnie tipped her head back and inhaled deeply. It smelled like… _smoke?_

But where was it coming from?

As if in answer to her question, the ceiling suddenly split open, fire rippling across it. The room above them started to crumble, falling all around her. Her bourbon slipped from her fingers, spilling across the floor. Pieces of wood and plaster rained down atop her head, knocking her sideways. The fire was roaring all around them, as if it had been building, unseen or noticed, for quite some time. That, or it was being magically encouraged. She could just imagine Kai chanting, eagerly feeding the fire, snarkily telling his Ripper allies that 'payback's a bitch.'

Coughing as her lungs filled with acrid smoke, Bonnie blinked as her eyes began to sting. She could feel something dripping down her cheek and knew, immediately, that it was blood.

Before she could even choke out his name, Damon had scooped her up from the wreckage and tore out of the house, dropping her a, _somewhat_, safe distance from the chaos. But as quickly as Damon had put her down, he was racing back inside, ignoring her coughing-shout of his name. It seemed, as soon as he was out of sight, that the whole place came down around him. The walls gave out, the wood cracked, and suddenly a house she knew as well as her own was little more than a pile of burning rubble.

Bonnie stared at the destruction in front of her, tears brimming in her eyes. Fire ate away at the debris, flames licking high, reaching for the night sky, darkened further by the billowing, black clouds. Her eyes darted all around, searching desperately for any sign of him. The fire was reaching for the surrounding trees, grabbing onto everything it could, spreading and growing as it went, and she knew… She _knew_ she was in danger. She wasn't that far away, it could reach her in seconds. But...

Bonnie wouldn't move. _Couldn't_. She just stared, her heart hammering in her chest.

Her lips moved slowly, forming his name in a raspy squeak. "_Damon_."

The fire burst upwards in reply, whining and popping.

Bonnie took a stumbling step forward, a tear tripping down her cheek, followed by another, and another. "Damon," she said again, a little louder.

Her knees were shaking and her stomach was tied in knots. The smoke was almost too much for her to breathe through, but it didn't stop her from continuing forward, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides.

A blast of hot air burst toward her, stealing her breath and whipping her hair back. She could see what was left of the front doors, cracked down the center, one of the doors half-toppled to the ground, the other just barely intact.

It couldn't end like this. Not after everything else. Everything they'd been through. She couldn't lose him like this. She was mad, yes. She was angry and disappointed and she had every right to be. But she still wanted him in her life. She still wanted him alive and safe and okay. Despite everything, despite all that had happened, before, during, and after the prison world, Damon was _hers_. And she couldn't lose him. _Not like this_.

Inhaling deeply, Bonnie's face twisted fiercely. A seething coil of rage built up from the very pit of her stomach. It seeped into her skin, rippled across her body, and infected the very marrow of her bones. She raised her hands up lowly, fingers spread wide, and then she released a scream so loud that she swore the squealing, cracking _shatter _of glass was because of her. The fire eating away at everything suddenly lifted from the rubble, twisting and curling like liquid. She curled her fingers into her palms so tightly that her nails tore into her skin. The fire sucked inward, condensing into one rippling ball of flame, crackling and spitting, until finally it imploded, sending out a ripple of power that surged across the town like a tsunami of too-hot air.

Fire gone, the house was nothing more than a charred, broken mass; smoking and crumbling, but otherwise harmless.

Bonnie stared at it, her heart lodged in her throat and her mouth ajar in her shocked grief. Her arms fell to her sides and her quivering knees finally gave out, letting her sink to the damp grass. The chimney collapsed, bits of brick toppling here or there. Face crumbling, Bonnie felt the sob building in her throat finally release. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she rocked forward, her head hung in defeat, hands pressed against her thighs, fingers dug in. Her shoulders shook as she cried, taking great, gulping breaths of air only to choke on them.

She fell forward, pressing her hands to her face as she shook her head. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She finally came home. She was going to do it right this time. _Better_. No more sacrificing herself. No more exerting her powers to the point they hurt her. No more martyrdom. And she and Damon would have their fresh start, together and individually. He hadn't redeemed himself completely, not with everyone, but he was on the road in that direction. He was thinking of others and trying to be better and she could see it. She could _see_ the change in him, small as it sometimes seemed.

There were moments… Gone in a blink, but there all the same, when she looked at him and she saw… _something_. Something bigger, something deeper, something growing even when it shouldn't. Something with _potential_. With roots and hope and passion. And she'd wanted— more than she could put into words— to see where it could lead. Where _they _could lead. Because friendship, as important and vital and huge as it was to her, felt like just a beginning point. She'd never expected it. Never prepared for it. But it was there. Between them. Waiting and growing.

And now…

_Now_. That was over. Before it ever really began.

_He _was over, before he'd had a chance to become who she knew he could be, who he _wanted _to be. He—

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

Bonnie went still. For a trembling breath, she did not move. And then, slowly, she leaned back, slowly lowering her hands, staring up with searching, disbelieving eyes.

And there he was; bloody, limping, smudged with soot, his shirt half-burned away, his skin a little raw and red on one arm, and a paw… a brown paw, clutched in one hand. Miss Cuddles, a little worse for wear, hung as his side. But that… that barely registered before she was scrambling up from the ground and running toward him. She slammed into his body at full speed, eliciting a pained groan. Her arms wrapped around him as a stuttering breath left her, heavy with tears.

"I thought—" She clutched a hand at the nape of his neck; his dirty, damp hair tickling her fingers. "I thought you were _dead_. I thought… I _lost _you."

"It's okay. Hey, I got you. I'm here," he murmured. His arm came around her, hand rubbing her back before it slid up into her hair and brought her head to his chest. It slid around to wipe at her tear-stained and bloody cheek then. "You know me, Bon-Bon, I always make it out in the end… Pretty sure that trick you pulled with the fire helped a _tiny _bit though, if it makes you feel better."

Bonnie let out a laugh, emotional and cracked, and closed her eyes, pressing her face deeper against his chest.

His fingers soothingly scrubbed tucked her hair behind her ear and scrubbed down her neck. "I'm okay," he murmured, resting his chin atop her head. "A little burned, homeless, and this was my favorite shirt, but… otherwise okay."

Sniffling, she gave him one last squeeze before pulling back and looking up at him. Quickly, her anger swamped her, and she reaching across to punch his shoulder.

"_Ow!_" he complained. "What happened to the hugging? Let's go back to that."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Who runs back into a burning house?!" she exclaimed, glaring up at him.

He pursed his lips at her and brought Miss Cuddles up to face her. He raised both paws and adopted a truly ridiculous voice. "Can't you forgive this sentimental, _handsome_, sacrificial vampire? He just wanted to make sure you wouldn't lose your favorite teddy bear…" He drew the paws together in a prayer position and, when that didn't work, reached one over to bop her on the nose.

Bonnie cracked, shaking her head. "Give me her." She reached for the bear, but Damon held her out of reach.

"I think the one who saved her from a fire should get to hold onto her," he said.

"You got her for _me!_" she reminded him, brows raised.

"That was when I thought you'd appreciate the gesture." He scrunched up his nose. "Instead you're physically abusive and still hate me."

Bonnie's hand fell to her side as she stared up at him. "I don't _hate _you," she said quietly. "I was _scared_. And I had every right to be mad at you for what you did. With Kai _and_ tonight. Damon, that was dangerous. And I get it, I get that you think it's fun sometimes and you think you're just about invincible. But as someone who spent four months with you in a prison world because you _died_, let me just remind you that you are _not _invincible. You can get hurt and you can die and if that happened, I—" She shook her head, tears biting at her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do."

"Because you'd _miss_ me."

She rolled her eyes. "_Yes_, I'd miss you."

"And you _care_ about me."

"Of _course_ I do," she scoffed.

"Because you… Bonnie Bennett… _love _me." He stared at her searchingly, his expression serious. "Even when I'm reckless and impulsive and run into burning houses…"

Her throat was dry and her tongue felt two sizes too big, but somehow, against her better judgement, she managed to say, "Even then."

Their eyes met, that curious _something _not so fleeting in that moment. Instead, it was heavy and real and not at all one-sided. And then Damon held Miss Cuddles out to her, releasing her as soon as Bonnie's hand took one paw from his fingers. His gaze fell, momentarily, to wear the bear hung from her grip, and then he reached for her, folding their fingers together and moving to stand at her side.

"You know what this means, right?" he asked.

She turned her head to look up at him, her brow furrowed.

"I have nowhere to stay tonight," he said with a dramatic sigh. "I guess it's a good thing you have a house, huh?"

Her mouth turned up faintly at the corner. "The couch is all yours."

"Ah, see, now that's just hurtful. I ran through a _fire _for you and you won't even share the comfort of your bed?"

Bonnie snorted, shaking her head. But she sobered quickly after. "I don't think Elena would like that too much."

Damon looked forward once more, eyeing the remains of his home. "No. Probably not." He squeezed her hand, swinging it lightly between them, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. "A lot of memories in this place," he said quietly. "Good, bad… Some things I'd like to forget. Some things I hope I _never_ forget..."

Leaning over, she rested her head against his arm. "You could rebuild. It won't be the same, but… maybe it'll be better."

He nodded. "Yeah. I think it will be." He gave her hand a shake and cleared his throat. "It'll take time though. Can't rush something like that. But eventually, when it's ready… it'll get built."

Bonnie's mouth curled faintly at the corners. "It'll need a good foundation. _Strong_." Trustworthy.

"Gotta start somewhere."

They stood there, staring at the wreckage like it was something far more beautiful. A beginning instead of an end.

It was a yawn that broke the moment, reminding them of how late it was. Bonnie pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and shook off her lethargy.

"Time to get you home, Bon-Bon…" He took one last look at the house and then he started toward the driveway, where his car was waiting, miraculously untouched by debris.

Damon opened the passenger door for her and closed it behind her as she sat down, sinking into the seat. He circled around to the driver's side and joined her. As he pulled out of the driveway, he glanced back through the mirror, and then he held a hand out. She settled her palm over top his and took a deep breath.

Tomorrow they would tell the others. They'd make a game plan for Kai and the Rippers. They'd pick up where the left off before all of this. As friends who were still working through a few issues. And the potential something, simmering underneath, it would wait. Until he was ready and she was sure and there were no more complications standing between them. She wasn't sure how long that would take, but she knew, one day, it would happen, and it would be everything they wanted and needed and deserved.

Until then…

"You're still sleeping on the couch."

He pressed a hand to his chest as if she'd wounded him, and she snickered, shaking her head. He didn't argue the point though. Instead, he raised her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles.

The drive was quiet; the radio left off, nothing but their breathing to fill the car. It had a lulling effect. The chaos of before felt oddly distant, even as she was eager to take a shower, tend to her wounds, and get some sleep. There was a certain sense of comfort where she was. Damon beside her, the streets empty and quiet, his hand anchoring her. She wondered if they could just drive, never stop, leave town and keep going. It was a hopeless idea; they were both in too deep to walk away. But some part of her wanted to, even hoped to.

They'd just turned down her block when he said it, quiet but heavy, the meaning of his words all too clear. "I do too."

_I love you too._

Bonnie smiled, a gentle shadow across her lips. "I know."

He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.

For now, that was enough.

[**end**.]

* * *

**author's note**: _this was fun! i've written a lot of angsty death-fic for my otps in the past, so it's nice to let them live, haha. still, this one is a little bittersweet since they can't be together yet. but at leat they acknowledge that it's an inevitable thing. so i hope you enjoyed it regardless. _

_also, i've been thinking of adding a few more smutty pieces to this, since a lot of it has been more on the tame side. is anyone interested in that? _

_thanks for reading! please try to leave a review!_

\- **lee | fina**


	14. to be the man who walked 1000 miles

**MOVED! Now a multi-chapter. **

**Look for**: to be the man who walked 1000 miles (to fall down at your door)


	15. is this love? (real, real love)

**genre**: friendship/drama/romance  
**ship**: bonnie/damon ; bonnie &amp; caroline brotp ; suggested caroline/stefan  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**word count**: 1,798  
**prompt**: "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"– absentlyabbie (Tumblr)**  
summary**: After walking in on something she'd definitely not like to think about, Caroline gets to overhear Damon and Bonnie's 'what are we' relationship talk.

**_is this love? (real, real love)  
_**-1/1-

When Caroline walked into her dorm room, her mind was elsewhere, going over homework and schedules and what outfit she planned to wear on her date later that evening with Stefan. So it was no surprise that she didn't pick up on the situation until it was staring right at her. Coming to an abrupt stop, she stared at Bonnie, curled up on Caroline's bed, sheet pulled up over herself, her breathing irregular, lips swollen and hair mussed.

Blinking, Caroline paused, slowly drawing her hand out of her bag from where she'd placed her dorm room key. The door closed behind her with a click. "Uh… is there a reason you're naked in _my _bed?" she wondered. "Because, last I checked, yours was _right there_." She pointed to the right of her meaningfully.

"Uh, yeah, well…" Bonnie bit her lip, glanced at her bed, and then back to Caroline. "I got… lost."

"Lost," she repeated. "So you were, what, leaving the shower and just… stumbled in the wrong direction?"

"Uh… yeah. Yes. That's exactly what I did. So if you'll just… step outside for a second, I will get dressed, and move to my bed."

"A) Like, I haven't seen you naked before. We went skinny dipping, remember? I've seen everything you have to offer, and I give it a _giant _thumbs up, just, you know, from a distance. And B), that lie was terrible. I mean, I know I caught you off guard, but _really_. I'm blonde, but I'm not _that _blonde. Besides, I can smell him." Her nose wrinkled. "He has a very distinct _stink_."

"It's called handsome and out of your league," Damon snarked, sitting up abruptly from the floor. He smirked at her, shirtless from what she could see, completely nude from what she could guess.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Look, I'm trying to be supportive about this whole… _thing_," she waved at them, "you two have going on. But not in my bed, all right? I don't even think that's a lot to ask."

"Supportive." Damon snorted. "Last weekend, you held an intervention and set up a speed-dating round to show Bonnie she had better options..."

Caroline crossed her arms and raised her chin. "And I was surprisingly disappointed with what those boys had to offer." She paused. "Also, Stefan may have reminded me that you're less of an ass when Bonnie's around, which makes my life just a fraction easier."

He smirked. "Glad she could be of service."

Glaring at him, Caroline looked back to Bonnie, who had kept noticeably quiet. "So… my bed?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry Care." Bonnie winced apologetically. "We just kind of got caught up and, well, your bed was closest."

"He's a_ vampire_. You could super speed to anywhere and you chose _my _bed!" Caroline tossed her hands up. "Unbelievable."

"Unintentional, but I regret nothing," Damon told her.

"Of course you don't," Caroline muttered. "I'm going into the bathroom, where I will be for exactly _two _minutes. In that time, I expect you to be dressed and no longer anywhere near my bed… Which I'll now have to have _decontaminated_." With that, she turned on her heel and walked loudly toward the bathroom. Before she closed the door, she looked back at them expressively, her eyebrows arched.

Damon, ass that he was, merely smiled, wiggling his fingers at her in a wave.

She flashed her middle finger at him before she closed the door with a snap.

Huffing to herself, Caroline took a seat on the closed toilet lid and grabbed up an old People magazine to leaf through. But her hearing picked up their voices easily, and, well, she'd always been a bit of a snoop. More than a bit if she were being honest.

"Great, now that _she's_ gone," Damon said, "we can get back to what we were doing…"

"_Damon_," Bonnie chided. "You know she can hear you. And anyway, she's right. It's her _bed_. That wasn't exactly considerate of us." Shuffling could be heard as Bonnie left the bed and moved across the room, gathering up her clothes as she went.

"You know, I wasn't hearing too many complaints when it was happening…" Damon reminded.

A quick rushing noise told her he'd sped from wherever he was. Given Bonnie's giggle, Caroline could guess _where _he'd flashed to. _Gross_.

"That's because there was nothing to complain about at the time. But Caroline makes a good point. The room isn't exactly _private_. What if it hadn't been Caroline who came in?" Her voice softened, a note of guilt still thick. "She's not comfortable with us yet… I'm not sure she ever will be."

Caroline winced, thinking of Elena and the awkward tension in the group since she and Damon broke it off and he'd started pursuing Bonnie. In Bonnie's defense, she did _try _to avoid getting together with Damon. But, and even Caroline could admit, there was just something between her and Damon. Their friendship was something that caught the group more than a little off-guard, but the way they leaned on each other, how they protected one another… Whatever happened in the prison world —even a year later Bonnie still clammed up about it— whatever it was, it changed them. Bonnie was a little edgier now, less willing to play the sacrificial martyr. And Damon was… Well, Caroline wouldn't call it 'kinder' exactly. She couldn't really pin down what it was that had changed about him. A certain level of maturity, maybe. Not a word she would generally use for Damon, but… it fit, in its own way. He and Bonnie made their own kind of sense and sometimes Caroline's brain hurt if she thought about it too much. Her own history with Damon far from good. But he made Bonnie happy, and she made him… well, like she said, less of an ass. That was about as close as she would ever get to thinking of him as an even _remotely _good person.

"Well, good thing it wasn't her and it was just _Blondie_, then," Damon dismissed.

Bonnie's sigh said that wasn't the right answer, and Caroline rolled her eyes. _Men_. So dense.

Apparently catching on to her disapproval, Damon said, "Look, we can't change how Elena feels. Either she'll come around or she won't."

"I know that, I'm just saying that rubbing our… _thing_ in her face feels wrong," Bonnie explained.

"I'm starting to get offended by the use of 'thing' to describe what we are," he muttered.

"If I remember correctly, trying to define us is what led to this distraction in the first place. So if you want less 'thing,' maybe you shouldn't keep putting the conversation off."

"I would if I thought you'd say something I _liked_."

"That's a terrible excuse."

"I'm a terrible person."

Bonnie's voice was much gentler when she said, "No. You're not."

He was quiet for a long moment, and Caroline could almost hear his teeth grinding together as he bit back a snarky remark. "What do you _want_, Bonnie? Because I know what we are, I know what I want, but you're still hung up on what _Elena _wants and what _Elena _is okay with…"

"She's my best friend."

"_I'm _your best friend. _Blondie's _your best friend. She might not like me much, but even _she's_ coming around."

"Debateable," Bonnie argued. "Look, I'm not trying to say that we don't work or I don't want to be together. I just… don't like the circumstances it's happening under."

"So what, we're just supposed to wait until Elena grants us her approval?" He snorted. "She barely remembers me!"

"That's not true… _Damon_. She care about you. She _loves _you."

"And I love her. I'm just not _in love _with her. I'm in love with y—"

Skin slapping skin and a muffled noise told Caroline Bonnie had covered Damon's mouth with her hand. "Not here. Not like that."

A loud, dramatic groan answered her, and then, "Fine," he said, voice still muffled. "Doesn't change facts though."

"_Damon_."

"I liked it better when you were saying my name on Barbie's bed."

Bonnie offered a long-suffering sigh. "I'm _serious_."

"So am I. If you don't want to hook up in here because of Elena, then you should get your own dorm room. Or better yet, you should come home on the weekends. And every other night you don't have a morning class…"

"You make it sound a lot easier than it is. I have homework and studying and—"

"All things you can do with me. I'll _quiz _you. We can set up a rewards system I promise you'll love…" he suggested.

Caroline shook her head, imagining his wiggling eyebrow with disdain.

"Tempting. But the best I can do is weekends. During the week, I need to focus."

"So you're saying I distract you… Me and our _thing_…" he teased.

"A lot. Which is why you and your _thing _need to practice a little more discretion."

"Not my forte. But I'll see what I can do."

"Uh-huh… Close enough. Now, help me find my clothes… And maybe try putting on some of your own. It's been more than two minutes. Caroline's probably going crazy in there."

"She's _probably_ texting our conversation to Stefan…" Damon muttered.

Caroline perked up and reached for her phone. _Good idea_.

A few more minutes passed, interspersed with half-hearted bickering as they finished getting dressed and reorganizing the room.

"All right, Care, it's all clear," Bonnie finally called.

Finishing up her text, Caroline stepped out of the bathroom. "_Finally_. Not that your relationship talk isn't scintillating stuff, but I have plans tonight that I'd like to get ready for."

Damon smirked at her from where he was sprawled on Bonnie's bed, legs crossed at the ankle. "Is Little Brother taking you out on the town?"

"Yes. He is." Hands on her hips, she grinned right back at him. "Maybe you could try doing the same with Bonnie. Find a nice B&amp;B somewhere. Ruin someone else's weekend..."

"Ruining yours is so much more _fun_."

Caroline's eyes narrowed and her lips parted as she inhaled deeply, ready to start ranting.

"Okay, that's enough. We're sorry, Care. It won't happen again." Bonnie smiled at her sincerely. "And have fun with Stefan tonight. Tell him I said 'hi.'" She looked over at Damon meaningfully and he obediently rolled off her bed.

Grabbing up her hand, fingers knotted together, he led her out the door and waved farewell to Caroline rather dramatically. "Go easy on Stefan."

With a snort, she waved a dismissive hand at him before moving to her closet to admire the dress she had hanging in wait. A genuine smile turned her lips up then. A Damon-free dorm and a date on the horizon; her night was back on track.

[**End**.]

* * *

**author's note**: _i'm encouraged by the positive interest in smut, so there will be some oneshots of that persuasion soon! ;)_

_ also, for any who aren't aware, the previous 'time travel' oneshot has been made into a full story. so you can check out the expanded first chapter of "**to be the man who walked 1000 miles (to fall down at your door)**" and let me know what you think! :) _

_thank you all so much for reading! please leave a review; they're my lifeblood!_

\- **Lee | Fina**


	16. you want it (you can get it, my dear)

**ship**: bonnie/damon ; mentioned caroline/stefan  
**rating**: nc-17/explicit  
**word count**: 1,486  
**prompt**: "Hey, have you seen...? Oh." – absentlyabbie (Tumblr)**  
summary**: The kitchen was definitely not the place for them to be getting hot and heavy, Bonnie knew this. She probably should have said something before Stefan walked in on them…

**_you want it (you can get it, my dear)_**  
-1/1-

The kitchen was not the place for this. It was entirely too public; with three different entry points and no locks. Not to mention the fact that people, friend or foe, tended to pop up without warning or explanation. But Bonnie couldn't find it in her to voice that thought at the moment.

The counter was cold under her bare back, and she briefly regretted how far away her top had been tossed. At least it was doing better than her bra, which was hanging off the ceiling rack. She was soon distracted from the cold by Damon's exploring hands. His palms kneaded her breasts, fingers teasing over her nipples, circling and plucking at them, and then she found herself shivering for a completely different reason.

Her jean shorts were unbuttoned, tugged down her hips a few inches, but still very much _on_. Leaning up, she reached down, trying to push the fabric out of the way, finding it a little difficult to do with him in the way. He chuckled at her struggle, grinning when she frowned at him. Reaching down, he gave her shorts a yank, curling his fingers around the edges of her underwear to bring them down too.

Stripped naked, she balanced her heels at the edge of the counter and stared up at him, an eyebrow raised. "How is it I always lose my clothes first?"

He shrugged unapologetically. "I can be very focused when I want to be…" His hands found the tops of her knees and slowly slid down, dragging his knuckles across her inner thighs. "For the record, this is my favorite of your fashion choices."

She laughed, her head tipping back. "I'm _shocked_."

He grinned up at her, and bent, pressing a kiss to the side of her knee and slowly sliding down her thigh, nipping and kissing as he went. "I could be biased."

"_No_…" She tucked her arms behind her head and watched him, her eyes hooded. "You know how highly I value your opinion.'

"Yeah?" He hooked her leg over his shoulder and walked his fingers down the top.

"Mmhmm." Her breath hitched when he reached the end of her thigh, kissed her hip bone, and then moved to the other hip and started up the other thigh. "Your input is greatly appreciated."

He licked a strip across her skin, his teeth flashing as her leg shook and she let out a quick breath. "Cold?"

Bonnie arched her back and brought one arm out from behind her head. She slid her hand down her front, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing her skin. "I have a few ideas on how I could warm myself up," she said, fitting her hand over her pussy. His gaze fell, focusing on her hand, and he rested his head against her knee, watching her. She slid her finger around in tiny circles, teasing herself open, and then dipped it inside herself.

A muscle ticked in his cheek as he clenched his teeth, his pupils dilated.

Bonnie bit down on her bottom lip and slid her finger in deeper, a slow, easy thrust to it, her thumb curling to flick over her clit. Her hips rocked forward and her toes curled as she focused on the slow build, working herself up. She could feel her heart picking up in her chest, her skin flashing with heat, and her nipples tightening. Damon slid a hand up her side, smoothing his palm over her skin before he fit it around her breast, thumb rubbing circles around her nipple. But his eyes never moved, focused completely on the movement of her fingers.

Bonnie's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her stomach tightening as little ripples of pleasure ran through her. Her finger picked up, thumb strumming a little quicker, and then his hand was on top of hers, stilling her. She let out an impatient huff, but watched as he raised her hand up, her wet finger resting on his bottom lip. He parted his mouth and took her finger inside, tongue swirling around. He hummed, scraping his teeth over the pad of her finger as he released it. She was panting, her chest heaving a little, and he brought her hand up for her fingers to bury in his hair as he ducked down, kissing the top of her mound.

She murmured his name, arching her hips, and held on tight to his hair as his tongue stroked downward, flicking over her clit. He wrapped an arm around her leg, open hand pressed to her thigh, fingers spread, and opened her wider, burying himself there, eager to please. Bonnie was on cloud nine; she used to complain that Damon talked too much about nothing of importance, but the man had a tongue on him that never disappointed. And he seemed intent on reminding her of that; a lesson she was always happy to participate in. At least until the door to the kitchen swung open.

Stefan walked in, unaware. "Hey, have you seen…? Oh, _shit_. Uh…" He whirled around abruptly.

Letting out a surprised squeak, Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her hips in an effort to stop Damon. Leaning back, he licked his lips, brows hiked as he stared at his brother's back. "Whatever you're looking for, can it wait?"

"Uh, yeah, yes. Sorry, Bonnie. I didn't…" He cleared his throat. "I didn't see… much."

Bonnie could feel her whole body blushing, and she stared up at the ceiling, shaking her head. "It's fine. Let's just… never, _ever _talk about it."

"Right. Okay." Stefan pointed at the door, stepped toward it, and then paued. "Just, maybe in future, let's not do this in the kitchen."

Damon snorted. "You and Caroline were going at it in the parlor yesterday."

"There's a _couch _in the parlor. Nobody _eats _there," Stefan argued.

"You were in front of the window. Anybody could've seen."

"We live in the middle of _nowhere_. Nobody was going to look in the window and see anything," he grumbled.

"Not true. Bonnie's been gardening out there. Her witchy little herbs grow better in the front."

"Is this a conversation you need to be having _right _now?" Bonnie asked, her voice a little higher pitched. "_Seriously?_"

Damon looked down at her, shrugging, and swiped a hand over his still shiny mouth. "Probably not."

"I _told _you we shouldn't do this in here," she muttered, glaring at him. "_Oh, Bonnie, it'll be fine. Stefan's out with Caroline_…" she mocked.

He frowned at her. "I don't sound like that."

"You sound a little like that," Stefan piped up, clearly amused.

"Shut up," Damon said. "Where _is _Caroline? I thought you two had a date."

"We did. She forgot her purse. Which is what I was looking for when, uh…" He waved his hand around.

"It's on the table by the bookshelves," Bonnie told him.

"Great. Thank you. And sorry, again," Stefan said, before walking back out through the door.

"Now that _he's _gone…" Damon slid his hands under her ass and pulled her down the counter a little more.

"Nice try." Bonnie put her hand on his head to stop him. "We're taking this show somewhere private, _immediately_."

"Come on, he's going out for dinner," he complained. "They'll be gone for at _least _an hour."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "No! Anybody could walk in here. People don't even knock anymore."

"That's half the fun." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Live on the edge, Bon-Bon."

She closed her legs and pushed her toes against his stomach. "I think I've met my quota of edge living. It'll take you five seconds to get us upstairs." She pushed herself up and raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," he sighed. Bending down, he gave her a quick kiss before he picked her up bridal-style. "Spoilsport."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, he flashed them out of the kitchen and into his room. He dropped her on the bed, where she bounced, while he shut the door and locked it for emphasis. Turning over onto her knees, she reached up, tucking her hair behind her ears, and grinned at him. "Now _you _can lose your clothes. And make it interesting…"

Damon grinned at her, beginning to dance rather dramatically as he unbuttoned his shirt.

With a laugh, she grabbed up the stereo remote, and turned on one of his favorite mix CD's. Leaning back against the pillows, she whistled at him, cheering him on. Much as Stefan's interruption had been unexpected, things were back on track.

Of course, Stefan took to announcing himself every time he entered a room, at least until she really _did _get an eyeful of him and Caroline going at it through the front window. Which is when they decided the four of them were going to need a warning system of some kind.

{**end**.}


	17. inevitably (it's you and me)

**title**: inevitably (it's you and me)  
**category**: vampire diaries (tv)  
**genre**: angst/romance/drama  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: pg-13/teen  
**prompt**: "It's not what it looks like…" – **absentlyabbie**  
**word count**: 3,298  
**note**: this was written pre-season finale, so elena's still (kind of) in the picture, and not pulling a (dumbest-exit-ever) snow white/sleeping beauty.  
**summary**: In an effort to get over her unexpected feelings for Damon, Bonnie decides she needs space. Things do not go as planned. But maybe that's a good thing.

**_inevitably (it's you and me)  
_**-1/1-

The echo of their laughter still filled every corner of the room; she could feel the rattling in her chest still, the curl of her lips. Her feet followed his, one hand curled around his shoulder, the other tucked in his, raised up in the air as he hummed along to the stereo, moving them around in dramatic sweeps. Two glasses, stained with bourbon, sat on the floor where they'd sat, talking in front of the fire, watching it spark.

Bonnie knew she should stop; stop coming over, stop _staying _over, stop spending her free time thinking about him, wondering where he was or what he was doing or if he was thinking of her too. She should stop dancing and laughing and drinking with him. All of it. Because every night, she felt those roots grow, coiling around her heart, binding her to something, _someone_, she couldn't have. Not really.

This was temporary; she'd known that from the start. Damon was a friend, if that, depending on the day and the moment and who else was on the line. She could be just as easily discarded as picked up. He could twirl her until she was dizzy or let her spin free, colliding with every sharp-edged obstacle in her way. And maybe he would pick her up after, or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd show up when the bruises had faded, offering a half-hearted apology, that she would take, because she'd gotten good at that. Not just with him, with _all _of them.

But in the moment… it felt good. It felt _right_. Being in his arms, listening to his off-beat singing, his lips brushing her ear. And when he spun her in circles, she laughed, waiting for him to pull her back in, for the impact of her body hitting his, safe and sound. Because even though she knew that one day he wouldn't catch her, she still hoped he would.

"This looks… _cozy_," a familiar voice piped up.

Bonnie froze, turning her head to find a confused, frowning Elena staring at them, her arms crossed over her chest as she stepped into the living room.

"Bon-Bon likes her 90's R&amp;B, who am I to judge?" Damon said simply, hanging an arm over Bonnie's shoulder and half-grinning at Elena. "What're you doing out this way? I thought you had some big test to study for."

"I do. I just… needed a break. I tried calling, but—"

"Oh, right." He dug around in his jeans and came up with his phone, turning the ringer back on. "Sorry."

Elena's brows hiked, her lips folded, as she nodded. "It's… _fine_."

Bonnie looked between them, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh, well, it's getting late, so I should get going." Sliding out from under Damon's arm, she started for her bag, tucked against the wall.

"You sure that's smart? You've been drinking," Damon reminded, his brow puckered with worry.

"It's not a long drive. I'll stay at Grams' place tonight. I've been airing it out, cleaning it up, it'll be nice to stay there." She hooked her bag over her shoulder. "Have a good night," she told them, before hurrying down the hall and out the door. Her heart was beating too quick for comfort and she squeezed her fingers into her palms as her hands shook. She was playing with fire; she knew that. A fire that would only burn her, too. Damon already had what he wanted; he didn't see her that way.

Climbing into her car, she shook her head. This just sealed it; she really needed to _stop_. Stop indulging herself, stop hoping against reality, stop wanting something so far out of her reach. They were friends; that was all they'd ever be. She could live with that.

* * *

**…**

* * *

Bonnie went a whole week; ignoring his calls and voice mails and 'where the hell are you?' texts. She thought she could go longer, even if her thumb constantly strayed toward the 'answer' button or she'd often find herself halfway through texting him back before she'd remembered she couldn't – _shouldn't_. One week. Seven days. That was a lot, right? On some scales, at least.

Damon had once likened himself to a fever she couldn't shake, she didn't realize quite how true that was until a week had passed and she felt the loss of him like an absent limb. She wanted to chalk it up to having spent every day together in the prison world. It would make sense that they were going through some kind of separation anxiety. Or her, at least. As annoyed as he was with her for her lack of response, she was sure he was coping. Damon didn't have much need for most people. He would adapt to not having her around as much. Probably quicker than her ego would like. But that was okay. It would make cutting the cord that much easier.

On the eighth day, he showed up at the dorm. She was halfway to answering the door when she heard him sigh through it. "I know you're in there, Bon-Bon… I can hear your heart."

She paused, blinked. Sure, Caroline and Elena were _technically_ dead, so no heartbeat for them, but for just a second, she wanted that to mean something else, something more intimate, like her heart stood out amongst all the rest. "I'm sick, you shouldn't come in," she called back, and then winced, because _what the hell? _He was a vampire; it wasn't like he'd _catch _her non-existent cold.

With a snort, he said, "I'll risk it," and turned the handle.

She leapt forward, and slammed against the door, forcing it closed. "I- I'm really not up for visitors. Elena's in the library."

"I'm not here for Elena, I'm here for you…" She could practically _hear _his frown through the door. "You've been avoiding me all week…"

"I've been sick. And busy. Really busy. With school." She slapped her hand against her forehead. "Look, Damon, I just… I need some time to… get back into the flow of things."

"And I'm not part of the flow?" he asked, offended. "I _am _the flow. The _flow _follows where I go."

Rolling her eyes, she bit her lip to hide her amused smile. "The normal, average _human _flow," she specified.

He paused, and then said, "There's nothing average about you, Bon-Bon."

Her heart hitched again, but she quashed its hopes and shook her head. "Not according to the general populace, okay? I just need to find my groove again, and then…"

"Then what? You'll stop avoiding me?"

Swallowing tightly, she said, "Sure. Yes. I… I'll make time for us to… watch The Bodyguard and dance to questionable 90's music…"

"And pancakes."

She snorted. "Sure, maybe by then I'll be able to choke down your pancakes."

He was quiet a long moment, before, "Okay. You need some time, fine. You know where to find me, Bennett." He knocked his knuckles against the door in farewell.

"Yeah," she murmured, "I do." When she was sure he was gone, she pushed off the door and started for the door, falling forward to face-plant on her pillow.

Just as she made impact, the door flung open. "_Ha!_ I lied," he announced, swaggering into the room.

Groaning, Bonnie turned herself over and frowned at him. "What part of 'I need time' did you miss?"

"The part where you were going to completely _abandon_ your best friend!" he accused, pointing at her.

"I was _not _abandoning you," she scoffed.

"Oh, Damon, I'm just sick. Wait, no, I just need space. I'm re-adapting to being boring to fit in with all the other _boring _humans who don't know I have powers and have repeatedly saved the world and resurrected myself…" he mimicked, terribly.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I don't sound anything like that."

"The abandoner doesn't get a say in how she's portrayed." Grabbing a pillow off of Caroline's bed, he threw it at her.

"I wasn't abandoning you," she persisted. "I was just—"

"Trying to put space between us. Ignoring my calls and texts. Pretending I never existed…?"

Her eyes darted away a moment. "Look, it's not what it looks like. I just…" She trailed off, unsure how to explain it.

"It's okay. I get it."

Bonnie paused. "You do…?" She raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Sure." He winked. "Not everybody can handle this much awesome for such a prolonged period of time."

She snorted. "Oh, really?"

"Uh-huh. Hey, it's not your fault you fell for me." He grinned. "They all do eventually."

Bonnie's amusement faded abruptly and her smile turned sour. Turning her eyes away, she said, "Consider me the exception to the rule. Look, I wasn't kidding earlier. I haven't been feeling well, and I really do need some time to adjust to being back. But you're right. I'll stop ignoring you. Just… not today. Okay?"

Damon stared at her, his own amusement fleeing. Crossing his arms over his chest, he pursed his lips. "What's really going on with you?"

"Nothing. I've already told you—"

"Is this because of Elena? Did she say something?"

"What?" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What're you talking about?"

"We broke up. Last week." He shrugged, shifting his feet. "I know what you're going to say, I had it coming, and yeah, probably. But this was a long time in the works. She wasn't happy. I wasn't happy. Now we're both miserable, _but _we'll be happier in the _long-run_…" He smirked. "Or at least, I would be if my best friend didn't up and _abandon _me in my hour of need…"

Bonnie looked up at him, her brows hiked. "You… _Really?_"

"Don't look so surprised. It was bound to happen eventually, right? You're the one that told me if it was meant to be, it wouldn't be so hard."

"Yeah, but, you were drunk, and I didn't think you'd take it to heart."

"Well. Not usually. But you were right. Me and Elena, we had a good run, and I'll always be there for her. But… we're better people when we're not together. Especially when I've got my Jiminy Cricket around to point me in the right direction. _Which_, if you're wondering, is currently toward the bar. So…" He wiggled one of her feet. "Let's go."

Amused, Bonnie gave a long-suffering sigh, and then rolled herself off her bed. "Just because I'm agreeing to this doesn't mean that my self-imposed period of normality is over."

Hanging an arm around her shoulder, he walked her out the door. "Say that again when we're a bottle of bourbon in and you're belting Whitney in my ear while we dance…"

Bonnie snorted, and hung her arm around his waist. "Deal."

* * *

**…**

* * *

It was just after midnight, and Bonnie was comfortably buzzed.

Damon was standing on the coffee table, his shirt undone as he sang 'Whatta Man,' loud enough to wake the actual dead.

"It's a good thing Stefan's holed up at Caroline's or I have a feeling he wouldn't appreciate this…" she muttered.

Taking another swig of his bourbon, he held a hand out to her, wiggling his fingers demandingly.

Rolling her eyes, she sloppily reached for his hand. He caught it and pulled her up until she was standing in front of him on the table. "Dance with me." He drew her hand up onto his shoulder and lifted her other in his, tucking his arm around her waist and pulling her in close as they began to move in a slanted square. He hummed, not completely in tune with the song that was now playing, and ducked his head down so his cheek was pressed to hers.

She squeezed his hand and closed her eyes; half in an effort not to get dizzy and half to enjoy the moment. He was warm, but she thought that was partly due to the fire going in the grate. It'd been eight days, _nine now?,_ since they last danced, and she half expected an irritated Elena to show up, demanding that Bonnie scram so they could fix their relationship. But when one song finished, and then a second and a third, and they were still uninterrupted, she let herself hope that maybe she wouldn't. Maybe Elena wouldn't come back and maybe she wouldn't want him back and maybe she wouldn't try to fix her and Damon. Or, better, that even if she did, Damon would stick to his decision not to pursue a relationship.

Was that selfish? It felt selfish. Was she a terrible friend? Probably. But even if nothing ever happened between her and Damon, she still thought he and Elena were better off apart. No two people brought out the worst in each other like they did. She actually _liked _Damon, who he was and the choices he made, when he wasn't blinded by his devotion to Elena.

Oh God, sign her up for worst best friend of the year. She deserved that award. Elena would agree, she just knew. It wasn't bad enough that she had feelings for her best friend's (ex) boyfriend, but she was actively hoping they didn't repair their relationship, _and _she was dancing with him in some kind of mock celebration over the end of said relationship. She should get a plaque too.

_Bonnie Bennett – worst best friend ever – may she never befriend another friend's boyfriend in a prison world again_.

She snorted, and the noise seemed to alert Damon, because he lifted his head. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"Yeah? What about?" He twirled her abruptly, laughing at her shriek of surprise, and pulled her back in, cradling her against his chest. He grinned down at her, that same silly smile he'd given her when she'd first come back, come _home_, and he'd held his arms wide for a hug.

She stared up at him, searching his face; for what, she had no idea. "Nothing. It's… nothing."

"Mm-mm. I know that face." He reached his hand up and cupped her cheek, brushing stray hair from her eye. "What's going on in that _witchy_ little head of yours?"

"It's… I don't know. I was just wondering."

"About?"

"You… and Elena. How… How long do you think it'll last? Your break-up, I mean."

He tipped his head, feigning deep thought. "Generally, I hear those are permanent."

"Yes, but _realistically_…" She shook her head. "You and Elena are the embodiment of on-and-off… She'll always be your 'what if.' What if you didn't break up? What if she never loved Stefan? What if you never died or you came back before she wiped her memories? What if you were just two normal humans? What if—"

"—I never fell in love with her best friend."

"…she… you… _what?_" She went still, staring up at him with wide eyes. "What did you say?"

"What? It's a game. I thought I was supposed to toss out random reasons," he blustered, turning his eyes away.

"Damon…" she murmured seriously.

He winced. "It's not a big deal. I'll get over it. It's probably just Stockholm syndrome."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You get that when someone holds you against your will, like bonding with your kidnapper. I did _not _kidnap you!"

"Well, I was definitely there against my will," he persisted, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yes, but _I _wasn't keeping you there." Shaking her head, she said, "Can we get back to the part where you said you were… that you… _love _me…?"

"I love a lot of people," he dismissed. "There's Stefan…"

She blinked. "No. Please, slow down, I can hardly keep up," she muttered.

He frowned at her. "I love Elena. I'm just not… _in love _with her anymore. I even love Caroline in some weird frenemy way. Since she's probably going to be my sister-in-law, that makes sense, right?"

"I'm pretty sure you owe her a giant, sincere apology before you whip out any 'I love you's in her direction."

"Noted."

"You're still avoiding it."

"Maybe I'm taking a page out of your book," he defended pettily.

With a scoff, she stared up at him, waiting for him to eventually give in and look at her. She searched his eyes when he finally did, a smile tugging at her lips. "Just admit it."

"Admit what?"

She grinned slowly then. "I'm like a fever you can't shake."

He let out a scoff of a laugh. "Yeah… yeah, a disease."

Licking her lips, she raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So? So what? So I have… _feelings_… for you. That doesn't have to change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. See, you and I, we're solid. We don't need pesky human emotions. We have music and bourbon and _dancing_…" He twirled her again, but this time her heel caught on the edge of the table and she fell backwards. Damon went with her, turning them mid-air so he caught the brunt of her weight as he landed on the floor, face-up, and she ended up sprawled on top of him. "Okay. Scratch dancing."

Bonnie lifted her head, her arms falling to either side of him, hands planted on the floor to lift herself up. She paused mid-way and stared down at him. Biting her lip, she wondered, "Did you mean it?"

He peered up at her. "What? That I fell for you? Both figuratively and literally… You think I say that to just anybody?" He pointed at her. "This was a long time coming. You can't say you didn't see the signs. All that bickering? Just unresolved sexual tension."

"Sure, and sometimes you were just being an idiot."

"An attractive idiot," he correct.

She pursed her lips at him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just stating facts, for the record."

"What record?"

"So when we tell the story of our first kiss later, it'll all be in order."

"Oh, our first kiss?" She raised an eyebrow. "What happened to 'we don't need pesky human emotions'?"

"That was before I realized you loved me too…" At her arched eyebrows, he grinned. "Uh-huh, fake ignorance all you want, but I know you, Bonnie Bennett…"

"I have no idea what you're talking abou—"

And there, on the floor in the Boarding House, Damon kissed her for the first time. He leaned up, slanting his lips over hers, his hand tucked behind her nape, fingers buried in her hair. His mouth was warm and smooth, the blunt scrape of his teeth over her lips sent a shiver down her spine, and the heavy thud of her heart wasn't hopeful this time, it was fulfilled.

Slowly, with their lips still meeting, he turned them over onto their sides, his fingers reaching up to brush her hair of her cheek with gentle affection. And between lingering, sipping kisses, he said, "Admit it… You love me too."

It was too early into… whatever they were, and they had a lot to work out, not the least of which was the effect anything between them would have on Elena, but, since she was already up for the worst best friend of the year award, she thought denying it was pretty much pointless. So she smiled against his lips and said, softly and sincerely, "I love you, too."

Later, when she retold their story, she wouldn't say it started with the prison world, or because he was handsome, or that she'd effectively won the worst best friend of the year award. She would say it was a slow process, with a lot of mistakes and bickering and some 'what if's' along the way. But eventually, they ended up in the right place, at the right time, with the right person, and it was always going to be each other.

* * *

**author's note**: _this has been sitting half-finished on my computer for a while, but i was inspired by the truly awesome work of the bamon fandom on Tumblr, who've reached over 2.5 million reblogs for the **ship of the year** competition! ya'll are amazing! anyway, here have some fic to celebrate said awesomeness. and if you have a tumblr, but haven't been involved, please try to help out if you can! _

_thanks for reading! please leave a review; they're my lifeblood. _

**\- lee | fina **


	18. remember all the sadness and frustration

**title**: remember all the sadness and frustration (and let it go)  
**series**: it's all worth the fight (when it's you, dear)  
**category**: vampire diaries (tv)  
**genre**: drama/romance  
**ship**: bonnie/damon  
**rating**: teen+  
**word count**: 3,446  
**prompt**: "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you." – absentlyabbie (**Tumblr**)  
**summary**: When Kai spins some long-distance magic from 1903 to put Damon in a coma, Bonnie has a choice to make. Let Kai out or kill him…

**_remember all the sadness and frustration (and let it go)_**  
-1/1-

The words 'coma' and 'vampire' should _never_ be used in the same sentence. Hearing them felt foreign to Bonnie. She listened, absently, as Jo tried to explain that she wasn't sure what the cause was, or how to reverse it, that it was probably magically induced, which was now out of her wheelhouse.

Bonnie simply stared, blank faced.

"Bonnie?" A hand touched her shoulder. "Do you understand what Jo's saying?"

"She's not an _idiot_, Elena," Caroline snapped.

"I didn't say she was," Elena said, exasperated.

As per usual, Stefan intervened, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. "Look, I think she's just in shock. We all are. This feels like it came out of nowhere."

Bonnie could hear them, even feel them moving around the room, but her focus was on Damon, laying completely still in his bed. Morning light spilled over his features, but he looked sallow. Not pale, he was always pale, but like his skin was paper thin, an unhealthy white. And his face, always so dramatically emotive was completely blank. It felt wrong. All of it felt wrong.

Damon would hate how they crowed his bedroom, peering down at him like a puzzle they needed to solve, talking about him like he had no say. Of course, he didn't, because he couldn't speak. But that was beside the point.

"…Kai did something or had some kind of fail safe," she heard from Jo, standing off to the side, talking quietly with Alaric.

"He's not here though; he's still on the other side. Could he do something from over there?" Alaric wondered.

"I don't know. _Maybe_. There are so many factors to consider. If it's 1903 and there are things of Damon's in that house… He has his powers, he's the coven leader, he _might_ be able to do something. I'm not sure."

"Why Damon though? Of everyone he could attack?"

Bonnie went still, her eyes turned to the side.

A flood of cold rushed through her veins.

She stood abruptly, her hands shaking. Because of her. It was a warning to _her_. She needed to go back for Kai or he would continue to keep Damon in… whatever this was. Stasis? A slow death? He didn't look good and it didn't matter how much blood they fed him, he continued to look like death warmed over.

"Bonnie? Hey, where are you going?"

"I have to go." She hurried toward the door, her eyes darting around. Where was the ascendant? Where had Damon put it? God, why did she leave it with him to hide? He was terrible at hiding things. So predictable…

A spell. She'd use a spell to find it. Easy. It should be easy. She just needed her magic and blood and the ascendant and she would just… She would go into 1903 to retrieve a psychopathic witch with a grudge against her. _Ugh_. Nothing was ever easy. Nothing ever went the way it should.

Hysteria was building up in her chest, swamping her, but she closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. What would Damon do? she asked herself. Kill someone, probably. Or break things. Or insult people. Rage and complain until she finally told him to _do _something if he was so upset about it. She would skip the dramatics Damon was infamous for and instead go straight to strategizing. She considered and quickly dismissed taking anyone else along with her, or bringing them in on the plan. If she told them what she wanted to do, she would be met with a chorus of opinions, none of which she cared to hear or bear in mind. Not to mention the fact that they would want to come with her to take on Kai, which would be both unnecessary and a drain on her magic. Kai wasn't _their_ enemy. Had he done things to them? Absolutely. But nothing he'd done in any way, shape, or form, compared to what he'd done to her. Except Jo and her family, none of whom would be eager to join her. She wasn't even sure they _could_ go against Kai, considering he was their coven leader. So that left her.

She could have laughed at how exhaustingly simple it was. Didn't it always come back to her? Her with the Hail Mary plan that saved them and sacrificed herself…

With a sniff of her nose, she swiped at her eyes and made her way downstairs. If she knew Damon, he wouldn't keep the ascendant too close. That would make it too easily accessible. Yes, he was terrible at hiding things, but he was learning. So where would he put it if not close to him…?

She considered the options; the dorm room at Whitmore, near to Elena. Ric's apartment. The Lockwood Mansion. The Salvatore family crypt. But then it dawned on her, and a bitter smile pulled at her mouth. She left the house in a hurry, palmed Damon's keys in her pocket, and wondered how pissed he would be when he woke up to find out she'd used his car. She would welcome his complaining then.

The drive to her Grams' old house took minutes, but the time she spent sitting in the driveway felt like hours. After Grams' died, the property was passed on to her, much like her father's house had. She hadn't had the heart to sell them, and had often used Grams' as a safe haven, somewhere to hide when the world became too much. She'd done it in the prison world too; sneaking away to lay on her Grams' couch, breath in her perfumes and leaf through her cook books. Damon had found her there in the prison world more times than she could count, where their arguments over nothing got to be too much. And sometimes too when she was just sad and lonely and desperately missed having her Grams' calming, encouraging force at her back. She knew that when she went inside now, it wouldn't look like her Grams would be back any minute, lived in and loved, but instead it would be filled with boxes, of furniture draped in sheets, dust collecting on every surface. It would smell musty, the windows never opened to let in fresh air, and everything that used to scream of her grandmother's personality would be packed away.

With a tight swallow, she pushed the door of the car open and climbed out. Her hands shook as she walked up the path, overgrown grass reaching across the stepping stones, and she balled her fingers into fists. Be strong, she told herself. She climbed the stairs to the small porch, emotion burning up inside her, and reached for the door handle. She didn't have her keys, but her magic undid the lock, and the door slowly creaked open.

A shaky breath left her as she looked around. The furniture wasn't covered like it had been before. Instead, it was clean and pristine. The cabinets were all dusted to a shine and even the windows looked freshly cleaned, letting in shafts of sunlight across the hard wood floors and the ornamental run that—She paused. That wasn't her Grams' rug. It certainly went with the furniture nicely, but it wasn't hers. She peered down at it, her brow furrowed, and then let out a faint, cough of a laugh.

Shaking her head, she inhaled deeply, and then turned, her eyes darting around. It would be easy to use a locator spell, but some part of her wanted to know that she could find it without magic. That she knew him well enough to know exactly where he would put it. She wandered around the house, pausing in the kitchen. The cupboards were still empty, no food or dishes in sight. But the jars were lined up against the backsplash, the little crystal figures Grams' loved sat in the window sill, reflecting colorful light against the wall, and her cookbooks were stacked together in a rack, waiting to be used. Bonnie walked her fingers over the spines, over the clean counter tops, and down the handle of the fridge before she turned, making her way down the hall.

She paused outside of her Grams' bedroom, hand hesitating at the handle, but then moved on, past a table dressed in old candles and potpourri. She bypassed the bathroom, where no shower curtain hung around the claw foot tub and no rugs lay beneath it or the toilet. But it was clean and open and not nearly as empty looking as it could have been.

She kept walking until she reached the room she used to stay in, where a bed was still set up against the wall and a desk was pressed into a corner. None of her books were here, her stereo was long gone, and the many posters and pictures she'd hung had all been put away. But the room was still open, the bed dressed as if waiting for her to climb into it for a long needed nap. Her window was propped open too, lace curtains bobbing against the breeze.

She stepped inside, eyes moving all around, before eventually settling on a small jewelry box on her desk. It was an antique, something her Grams had given her when she was a little girl. Pink fabric and gold chains, legs on each four corners that looked like tiny crowns, and flowers knit into it. It was rather ugly, honestly, but the sentimental value was through the roof. She unlatched the front and tipped the top open, unsurprised to reach inside and find the 1903 ascendant staring back at her. Her lips trembled with a smile as she took it out.

Taking the ascendant with her, she made her way into the living room. While searching for a knife, she went over the spell, murmuring it to herself to make sure she had it right. If Kai wanted to see her so bad, he would, but it wouldn't be the reunion he was hoping for. If anything, this had just further solidified things for her. Going after Damon was a bold move, but ultimately a bad one. Kai would learn that the hard way…

* * *

**...**

* * *

Magical fights were exhausting, and the damage could be felt through every fiber of her being. It wasn't just her body that was tired, it was her magic itself. Kai was no easy enemy. He was smart and cunning and never missed a chance to prove it. But Bonnie was better. A better person and a better witch.

"Come on, Bonnie. Give up," he cajoled, as if he wasn't tired too, blood dripping down his cheek, leaning to one side when the strain of her attacks made his legs shake under him. "Things don't have to be like this. If you let me out, I'll pinky swear not to touch you or Damon. _Honest!_" He held a hand up, as if to prove his sincerity. "You can drive off into the sunset, free and clear."

"That easy, huh?" She raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you hold grudges or anything…"

He laughed, his mouth curved up in that manic smile of his. "You make a good point."

He thrust his hand forward and Bonnie felt a blow of power hit her like a fist, throwing her backwards. She hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from her, the emptiness of her lungs burning like fire. She clawed at her chest, struggling to gasp.

Kai grinned. "You're right. I probably will coming looking for you eventually. _But_, I'll give you a head start… That has to count for something, right?"

Finally sucking air into her lungs, she turned herself over, pressing her elbow to her side when her ribs ached. "I've got a better idea," she choked out, standing on wobbly legs, lifting her chin high. She gritted her teeth and sneered, "Why don't I bury you here, and never look back." It wasn't a question, but a _plan_.

His lip curled in a snarl, but he tried to hide it with his usual dismissive humor. "That's cold, Bonnie. You sure you want to go down that path?"

Raising her hands, she took a deep breath. "Yeah. I think I do."

He looked her over searchingly, and then nodded. "Okay… But just remember, I gave you a chance."

Eyes narrowed at him, she turned her lips up in a grin. "You're not the first to try, you probably won't be the last." Spreading her arms out, she began to chant, and it didn't matter what he threw at her, or the blood that trickled from her nose. Bonnie was a fighter. She was a survivor. And Kai was about to learn exactly that.

* * *

**...**

* * *

By the time Bonnie returned to the Salvatore Boarding House, it was night. Sending herself to 1903 without a celestial event was hard and she was more than a little drained, but she'd managed it all the same. Climbing out of Damon's car, she winced as the pull of bruised muscles made themselves aware. Her fight with Kai had been brutal and, she could admit that, more than once, she'd wondered if he might just win. But Bonnie was nothing if not stubborn. She hadn't died this many times and gone through all she had only to be killed by some cocky, sociopathic witch with a grudge. Ultimately, she had a choice. Let Kai out or let Kai die. She would've left him to rot in 1903, but he made his choice when he retaliated. She was forced to answer, so answer she did.

There was blood on her hands, both metaphorically and not. It was something she would have to deal with, something she'd have to reconcile herself with, and she would. Some part of her truly believed it was the right thing to do; he was a threat, not only to her, but to everyone. But another part of her hated that it had reached that point. That _she _had reached that point. There was no going back now. What was done was done.

When she walked inside, she heard noise from the living room. At least they weren't all crowded around his bed anymore. As she passed by, she heard Caroline call her name, but she didn't stop. Instead, she climbed the stairs two at a time and made her way down the hall. His bedroom door was cracked open, though she wasn't sure why. If he'd woken up, they would've been able to hear it, with or without the door open. She stepped through, closing it behind her, and just stared for a moment. He was so _quiet_. A state of being she sometimes questioned he was capable of. And yet, here he was, and it was completely unnatural.

Walking forward, she took a seat on the edge of his large bed and fiddled with her fingers. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. That he would spring up, crack a yawn, and ask for pancakes. Well, maybe. She was sure that if killing Kai would result in Damon's continued condition, he would've said something, if only to save his own neck. But he hadn't. So he must've been relying on the idea that she really wouldn't kill him. How wrong he'd been.

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie let it out slowly, shakily.

"Kai's dead," she announced, and the words were both a relief to say and a cold statement in an otherwise silent room. "I know you'd probably say 'good,' and pat me on the back like this was growth or something, but… I thought I'd feel different about it. Better, maybe. But mostly I just feel numb. And confused." She shook her head. "I thought it'd be simple. You know, slay the dragon, save the damsel, that kind of thing…" She let out a faint laugh. "But here you are, still a poor man's sleeping beauty…"

She looked over at him, as if she thought the insult might rouse him, but he was still so pale and quiet and unmoved.

"It's not that I regret it, exactly. I had a choice and I made it. I just… I don't know. I thought there'd be this relief that came after. Kill my demons, free myself, you know…? Maybe it'll come later. After it's sunk in. After you wake up…" Swallowing tightly, she let her gaze fall to her hands. Her voice shook, thick with emotion as she told him, "I need you to wake up, Damon. I… You need to wake up, because I can't do this without you."

Silence answered her, seconds passing tensely, and she sat, her lips trembling and her thumb dug into her palm as a point of focus. And then—

"How much do you need me?"

Bonnie blinked, turning her head abruptly to find him looking up at her, one eye cracked open and his mouth tipped up on one corner. Glaring, she said, "You ass!"

Smirking, he retorted, "An ass you _need._"

"Shut up," she muttered.

"You know, you were a lot nicer to me when you thought I was dying…"

Bonnie scoffed. "I just saved your life! How much nicer could I be?"

He shrugged. "I'm just saying. I'm not feeling the love here, Bon-Bon."

Snorting, she shook her head, her lips twitching. "_Jerk_."

He chuckled lowly, but then pushed himself up the bed, groaning as his body seemed to protest. He winced, stuffing his pillows behind his back, and ran a hand through his hair. "I feel like shit. How long was I out?"

She shrugged. "Since yesterday sometime. Caroline called us in this morning. Jo figured it had something to do with Kai. She couldn't reverse it, wasn't even completely sure what it was…"

He watched her, gaze searching her face. "He was sending you a message."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "He wanted out, so he needed to catch my attention. He couldn't do it to me, so…"

Humming, he nodded. "So. You killed him, huh?"

She blinked, wondering just how much he'd heard.

He turned his eyes down toward her hands; had he guessed or could he smell the blood on them? "You okay?" he wondered, his voice quieter, gentler than before.

Tears burned her eyes but she opened her mouth to lie, tell him sure, she'd be fine, she always was. But then he nudged her, his knee bumping her back, and he raised an eyebrow, his expression knowing.

So she didn't say anything, not a lie or the truth, not yet. Instead, she climbed up the bed and took a seat beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Getting to be a habit, huh?"

She looked up at him curiously.

"You saving me," he clarified.

"I think, at this point, it's a 'saving each other' situation," she mused.

"Hmm." He nodded and bumped her shoulder. "Deal."

A few minutes passed then, the quite not so strange now that he was awake. The room was dark outside of a blue glow cast from the moon through the closed curtains. "I should tell the others you woke up."

Humming, he reached over and took her hand, dragging it into his lap and threading their fingers. "In a minute."

She focused on his thumb stroking over the back of her hand, the motion and pressure soothing. Slowly, she found her eyes drifting closed and her head fell atop his shoulder. With a faint noise, she said, "Don't let me dream about it, about him…"

She felt the movement of him nodding, and let herself drift away, safe and sure with him there beside her.

The dream Damon spun for her was bright, full of colour and sound. There was no Kai there, no blood or death or fighting. There was just her, standing in front of a gate to an amusement park. The cacophony of people laughing and screaming was full of happiness and joy and completely absent of fear. Fear melted away, leaving her feeling hopeful.

"I'm thinking Ferris Wheel," Damon said.

Bonnie turned her head to see him standing beside her, still holding her hand.

He walked forward, tugging her along. "Don't tell me you're afraid of heights…"

She grinned, shaking her head, and hurried her steps to catch up to him, so they were side by side.

Eventually, she'd wake up and have to face her demons. But for now, she climbed into a seat on the Ferris Wheel and she let herself be content, far away from danger or death. And she never let go of Damon's hand. But that was fine, because he never let go either.

[**end**.]

* * *

**author's note**: _if it w__asn't clear, bonnie's gram's house had been fixed up by damon. since she ran away there a lot in the prison world, he figured, eventually, she'd do the same in the regular world, so he tried to make it more homey, so she'd feel more comfortable. he added a few things too, like his oriental rug. it was meant to emphasize how much their relationship had changed and how much he cared, so while bonnie was struggling with her choice, she still ultimately knew it was the right one. it was also a bit of a nod to how damon shows remorse and growth while kai doesn't._

_i wrote most of this foreve__r __ago, long before the finale. i can't remember if the coma thing was added because of rumours around elena's ultimate sleeping beauty act or what, but i guess i felt like playing with it a bit. originally, the fight with kai was going to be more detailed, but this was really more about bonnie going to any length to save damon and damon recognizing what that meant and trying to support her as she came to grips with the fallout of killing someone._

_i hope you liked it and sorry for the long wait. i promise i'm working on a few different bamon updates, i've just been sucked in by my darcy muse again. updates are coming though, so please don't ask about specific stories. i'll get to everything, just give me time. _

_thanks or reading. leave a review if you can!_

**\- lee | fina**


	19. i'm asking you (stay)

**word count**: 1,506  
**summary**: After finding a way to wake up Elena, consequence-free, Bonnie quickly finds herself faced with the issue of her feelings for Damon.

* * *

_**i'm asking you (stay)**_

* * *

The festivities were still in full swing when Bonnie slipped away. Elena was home, and it didn't take the expected sixty years to get her there. Bonnie was happy for her, she really was. Five years after she'd said goodbye to one of her best friends, she had a chance to say hello to her again. But as happy as she was to know that Elena wouldn't spend sixty-plus years in a pine box, another part of her was sad. Because the writing was on the wall, and it would only be so long until the foundation of life as she knew it began to crumble.

"Skipping out early? Thought you'd be the last one to leave…"

Bonnie paused. Her escape was so close, but she should've expected he'd intervene. Pasting on a smile, she turned on her heel to face him. "It's been a long day. I just want to go home and crash."

He nodded, but stepped toward her, eyes squinting in that way they do when he doesn't believe her. "That the only reason?"

"Do I need a better one?"

His mouth twitched. "I'm just wondering what happened to excited Bonnie who offered her pretty little neck up if it meant getting Elena home. This morning you were on cloud nine, now you're sneaking off like you've got something you want to hide."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you can't stand the idea that I'm not sharing something with you, right?"

"You never have before, why start now?"

* * *

"That's a generous re-write of our history." She crossed her arms and shook her head. "I told you, I'm tired."

He hummed, and reached up to brush her hair back over her shoulder. "Then why aren't you staying here? You have a room upstairs. I'd know, I can hear you playing that poppy junk at all hours of the night."

"I thought you might want some privacy." She shrugged. "Elena's back, it's been a long five years… I might just spend the whole weekend at my place. You can text when it's safe to come back."

He frowned. "What aren't you saying?"

"Nothing."

"_No_… You're hiding something. I know because you're doing that thing, where you can't quite look at me."

With a sigh, she raised her eyes to meets his head on. "_There_. Happy?"

"No. Not really. What's going on? Is it your magic? Something go wonky with the spell?" His hands slid down her arms and squeezed. "You're not secretly dead again, are you?"

Bonnie sighed, her head falling back. "No, I'm not dead. I'm just…"

"Just what? Spit it out..." His fingers slid down her forearms and across her wrists until they reached her hands. He gave them a little shake, thumbs rubbing lightly across her knuckles.

Her gaze fell to stare at them, at the anchor he was providing without even thinking about it. And that was exactly the problem. To Damon, she was just _Bonnie_. Best friend and favorite witch. For a long time, she was okay with that, because he was just Damon. Best friend and significant pain in her ass. But things changed. _Feelings _changed. And at some point she realized that while she knew she loved Damon, she'd never taken the time to wonder just how much.

Time was an inconvenient thing. When she wanted less of it, she got too much, and when she wanted more of it, she got too little. Realizing she was in love with him offered two options; never say a word and bury it, or say something and hope he might feel the same. With Elena tucked away for the foreseeable future, a small part of Bonnie thought _maybe_. 'Maybe he could love me now and her later.' 'Maybe sixty years was enough.' 'Maybe this time I get the guy.' _Maybe, maybe, maybe_.

And then Ric found a passage in an old book in a language that was all but dead.

Months were spent finding someone who could translate it, and a few more weeks preparing for the inevitable last ditch effort, until finally, it happened. Elena woke and Bonnie lived, and all was right in the world. For about five seconds. And then Bonnie remembered that she was in love with her best friend, and he was in love with her other best friend, and she was on the outside, looking in, like she always was.

Bonnie smiled, but it was sad and tired and edged with regret. Because this was how it always went. This was where she always ended up.

Untangling her hands from him, she reached up to brush them against her cheeks when she felt tears bite at her eyes. "I'm fine." When he shook his head, she took a step back. "No, really. I'm just… I'm tired and it's been a _really _emotional day…" Her voice caught and she swallowed down the pain that burned her throat. Tears still rimming her eyes, she pressed a hand to his chest, over his heart, and nodded. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Turning on her heel, she walked to the door once more. Fingers coiled around the handle when his voice stopped her.

"I didn't ask for this."

She paused, but didn't turn around.

"I didn't ask Ric to look for that book. I didn't ask him to chase down every language expert in the country. And I sure as hell didn't ask you to risk your life doing that spell! Because that's what you were doing, Bonnie… Even though it worked, even though the translation was right, we didn't know for sure. One wrong move, one bad attempt, and you'd be gone."

"It was worth it."

"Was it?"

She turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed. "Elena's back… She's _alive_."

"She was never dead. She was _asleep_. And she would've stayed that way, perfectly safe, no interruptions. But you had to play hero again. You had to put your head on the chopping block."

"She's my best friend!"

"What am _I?_" He stared at her seriously, eyes wide. "What would I do if you died? Huh?"

"I…" She looked away for a moment. "I was just trying to do the right thing."

"Yeah…" He smiled hollowly. "For _who?_"

Bonnie didn't have an answer for that.

But Damon did.

"I've seen the way you look at me… when you think I don't notice. I can probably count on two fingers how many women have looked at me like that and meant it… Elena, she took some convincing. She didn't _want _to love me for a long time. I think she hoped she'd get over it. But she came around. And for a while, I couldn't imagine anything feeling as good as that. As knowing that someone I loved felt the same way about me…"

Bonnie bit the inside of her cheek and blinked quickly.

"Five years ago, if you'd asked me what I'd do to get Elena back, I would've said 'just about anything.' But even then, even before all of this, I knew I couldn't lose you. Five years ago, I knew that losing you would be like losing myself. Any progress I made, any goodness I had left, all down the drain. 'Cause beautiful, judgy, _witchy _little Bonnie Bennett somehow became the most important person in my life. Well… besides Stefan." He looked away, and swallowed tightly. "Five years, Bon… Five years and that feeling hasn't changed. If anything, it's gotten worse."

She licked her lips and shook her head, heart pounding in her ears. "We can't do this."

"Why?"

"_Because_… Because Elena! Because you—"

"I what? I can't make that choice for myself?" He crossed the space between them in a blink and her heart stuttered in her chest. "For as long as I've known you, you've been trying to do what's right for everyone else. But just once, just this one time, be _selfish_. Take a page out of my book. Hell, take a whole _chapter_. Just… don't walk away."

Three rooms over, all of their closest friends were celebrating the return of his girlfriend. The so-called _love of his life_. All Bonnie wanted to do was go home, bury her face in a bucket of ice cream, and cry herself to sleep. And yet, here she stood, and there he was, asking her to stay.

She took a deep breath, so deep her lungs strained, and then she let go of the door handle. Looking up at him, she let a slow, hopeful smile upturn her lips.

Damon grinned.

"_Hey!_" Elena stood on the other side of the room, half-smiling as she looked between them. "You guys are missing out on a pretty tense game of Truth or Dare, shot-edition." As she stepped back, all smiles, she tipped her head. "Coming?" She walked off, not waiting for an answer, expecting them to follow.

Damon held a hand out; an anchor, a hope, a possibility. And Bonnie…

Well, she took it.

(Truth or Dare? _Truth_. Who do you love? _You_.)


	20. you (without me)

**prompt**: "I wish I could hate you."  
**word count**: 2,936  
**summary**: Three years after Damon erases a human Bonnie's memories of him and the supernatural world, he decides to find out if she's better off without him.

* * *

**_you (without me)_**

* * *

A few days on the road, countless 'you really want to do this?' followed by 'yes, I really do,' and Stefan still wasn't sure this was the right thing to do. They were parked in front of her house and that pit in his stomach started churning again.

He turned to Damon, brows hiked. "Last chance to turn back..."

Damon didn't answer; rather, he pushed his car door open and climbed out.

With a sigh, Stefan followed.

Bonnie lived in a pretty well-to-do area. Her neighbors lived below, in a cul-de-sac of carefully spaced houses that all looked a little too similar. At the end of the street was a large house, surrounded by grassy hills and a stone wall. An open gate led to a road that ended at a gothic-style house, not entirely unlike the boarding house.

The front door was over-sized with multi-colored glass; to the left of it was a doorbell. Damon reached forward and jabbed a finger at it and then stepped back, turning to take in the yard filled with its overflowing flower bushes and heavy limbed trees. He looked, to the untrained eye, to be perfectly at ease. But Stefan knew better; he knew how nervous his brother was to be reunited with his favorite witch.

He just hoped it turned out okay in the end.

Stefan could hear a steady heartbeat inside, so someone was definitely home. But, not for the first time, he wondered if it wasn't who they were looking for. The only details they'd been able to dig up were an address. It had been three years since they'd last laid eyes on her; any number of things could have changed. She could have a husband, children, a whole new life. And while Stefan would be happy for her, he couldn't help but wonder if Damon would. Damon who sent a newly human Bonnie off with no memory of them, telling her to have a good and happy life, to stay safe, and to never take the delicate bracelet she wore off. The one filled with vervain so she'd never fall victim to a vampire.

Bonnie had been against it; she didn't wan to go, she didn't want to forget. Stefan had argued that it should be up to her. It should _always _be up to her. But Damon… He'd been so sure that the longer she stayed in Mystic Falls, the longer she stayed near them, near _him_, the more danger her life would be in. So he ignored her tears, and his own too. He let her beat her fists against his chest as he cradled her face and he took it all away. The good and the bad. And when she stared up at him with blank eyes, having no idea who he was or what he meant to her, he sent her off in his car, with a bank account that would more than set her up for life, and hoped it was the right thing to do.

Stefan couldn't say for sure if it was. Matters of right and wrong had always been muddled in their world. He knew Bonnie would have stayed. Human or not, she would've stuck by them until her very last day. Which, given how short the average human's lifespan was in a town like Mystic Falls, probably wouldn't be long. And Damon knew that, too. But was it ever really right to take a person's choice from them? Bonnie had a right to pick how she lived her life, and with whom. Damon stole that from her, good intentions or not.

"What do you expect to happen?" Stefan wondered. "That'll she'll see you and it'll all flood back. Or maybe she's miserable and you can use that as an excuse to uproot her life again… Damon, seriously, have you really thought about—"

The door swung open, and there she stood. Her hair was longer; it'd been in a bob the lost time he'd seen her. Now, it fell in a shiny sheet down her front, framing the same pretty face and warm green eyes.

"Hi." She looked between them, brow furrowed. "Can I help you?"

Damon turned to face her, wide-eyed and tongue-tied. "Yes. We... That is, _I_..." He paused, swallowed tightly, and just stared at her. "I..."

"What my brother is trying to say is that we're lost. We're not from around here and the directions we have are all wrong." Stefan dug in his pocket for a folded map they'd printed off to get to Bonnie's new place. "See, it says this is the place, but you are... definitely _not_ who we were expecting."

"Oh." She peered down at the map a moment and then looked up at them. "Well, that sucks. Uh, can I ask what you were looking for? Maybe I can help you find it."

"That'd be great. Actually, if you had a phone we could use... My cell phone died and this guy doesn't believe in technology." He rolled his eyes and smiled charmingly. "Sure. Uh, it's just charging..." She stepped back from the door. "Come in. Just, wipe your shoes. I'm Bonnie, by the way."

"Stefan," he said, and carefully stepped over the threshold. "And this is my brother, Damon."

He followed her down the hallway, Damon just behind him, and let his eyes wander along the walls. There were paintings hung here or there, but no pictures. Nothing to show a family, at least not so far. They passed an archway leading into the living room, where pristine white furniture were set up in a u-shape near an empty fireplace. If Stefan squinted, it looked like the boarding house, only better lit and updated.

A winding staircase on the left side led to the second floor, and the long hallway they were crossing opened up into a bright kitchen.

"This is just getting eerie," Damon muttered, as he looked at the table set-up by a second fireplace, much like it was back home.

"You have a lovely home." Stefan leaned next to the island counter. "Did, uh, did you build it yourself?"

"Well, not with my own two hands, but yeah, I had it contracted. I don't know, I just... had a vision in my head of what home was supposed to look like and this is what came out." She plucked her phone up and disconnected it from the charging cord. "Here." She swiped in the pass code and handed it to Stefan.

"Great. Thank you. I'll only be a minute." He looked to Damon meaningfully and then stepped out into the hallway. Under his breath, he muttered, "Don't screw this up."

* * *

Damon was at a loss for words. Three years he'd been missing Bonnie and now, here she was, right in front of him. Real and solid and even more beautiful than he remembered.

"So…" She tapped her fingers against the island counter nervously. "You're brothers?"

"Yeah. Uh, yes." He eyed her curiously. "What about you? Any family?"

"Oh, no, not really. My parents died when I was pretty young. No siblings. Just…" She paused, her brow furrowed. "I had friends… They were like sisters to me, but… I haven't seen them in a long time." Her gaze grew distant for a second, but then she shook it off. "Anyway. Only-child syndrome. I think that's why I have so much stuff. Fill the void, you know?" She laughed awkwardly.

He nodded faintly. "So, no fiancé, husband, kids, anything like that?"

"Nope." She shrugged. "I got close, last year. Great guy. Smart, funny, stable job, that kind of thing. And we were happy. But something just didn't… _click_. It's fine. It was pretty amicable. I mean, he stole my cat. He said she liked him better. He wasn't wrong, but still..."

Damon snorted. "Guess it's better than setting your clothes on fire."

"Yeah." She smiled. "Why do I get the feeling your ex's would _definitely _do that?"

"My dating profile is a little questionable. I have terrible taste and clearly so do they." He grinned, and started walking around the kitchen, picking at random things, like the spice jars she had individually labeled and the herbs she had growing in little planters by the window. "So what do you do around here for fun? Karaoke bars, board games, book club...?"

"You think I play board games?"

"Sure. Who doesn't?" He shrugged. "Personally, I always win."

"Because you cheat!" She paused, blinked, and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I- I have no idea why I said that. That was weird..."

Damon turned to look at her, searching her face. "What's your favorite drink?"

"I like a good bottle of wine, but I never turn down-"

"Bourbon."

She fidgeted, shifting her feet side to side.

"Breakfast food. You like waffles or...?"

"Pancakes, I guess." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Sometimes I make a smiley face out of the blueberries and..."

"And make whipped cream fangs."

"Yeah." Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Sorry. I- I don't know what's happening. I'm not usually this emotional, I just..."

"When you go to bed a night, you sleep on the left side or the right?"

"What?" Her brow furrowed. "Look, this is getting a little... strange. I mean, I don't know you and-"

"You used to sleep on right, but then you changed, 'cause the left was closer to the window and you had this irrational fear-"

"That the sun would burn you..." Her eyes started darting around. "I don't.. I don't know why I know that. It doesn't even make _sense_." Bonnie started backing up toward the door, her chest heaving as she struggled for air.

Before she could run however, Stefan stepped in. He caught her arm and, with a gentle tug, pulled her bracelet free.

"_Hey!_ I need that! I can't take that off!"

"It's okay, Bonnie... Calm down..."

She took a deep breath, her shoulders falling loose, and she stared up at him, dazed.

Stefan looked to Damon, his expression grim. "You need to make a decision. Either we make her forget we were ever here or you stop running away."

Damon frowned back at him. "I sent away for a reason."

"Yes, because you were scared. Scared she'd die and you'd be responsible. But you and I both know that Bonnie is one of the strongest people we've ever met. So maybe she lives. Maybe, despite everything, she survives. Either way, she should get to decide that for herself." He released her then and stepped back. "Make your choice, brother."

As Stefan walked away, Bonnie blinked and turned to Damon, confused.

With a sigh, he walked toward her, and shook his head. "I've done a lot of screwed up stuff in my life. Every time I think I've hit the limit, I found another way to top it..." He reached for her, hands settling on her shoulders gently. "If you never forgive me, I'll deserve it. I'm three years too late to fix a mistake I never should've made." He stroked her hair back from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, and then he tipped her chin up and caught her eyes. "Remember everything I made you forget. Remember your family and your friends and me. Remember everything I took away; every feeling, every person, all of it..."

Bonnie gasped. Doubled over, she clutched at her head, and Damon waited. For the tears and the screaming and the _hatred_.

"You son of a bitch..." Bonnie lifted her head, face twisted in anger. "You son of a _bitch!_"

"I deserve that-"

"You deserve _more _than that!" She shoved at his chest; once, twice, three times, until he collided with the wall. "You sent me away! You made me forget! You left me! You- You left me _alone_..." Her voice caught and tears tripped down her cheeks. "_Why? _After everything. Because I was _human? _Because I was _weak?_"

"Because I _loved _you, and losing you would've killed me!" He leaned into her, and her fingers dug into his chest. "Because letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but at least you were safe. At least you were _alive!_"

"That's not fair. I loved you, too. And you left me, with no one and nothing. You left me with no family and no friends and no _you_. I had to start over. I had to build a life. And the _whole _time, every day, I knew something wasn't right. I knew I was missing something. That some part of me wasn't here anymore. Because you _took _it."

"I did what I thought was right. I was _wrong_."

"Is that supposed to make it better? Am I supposed to just forgive you and let it go?"

"No. No, you can hate me and leave me and run as far away as you can get. You can do whatever you want. I won't stop you."

Bonnie let him go and took a few steps back. She wiped at her cheeks and closed her eyes, trying to get a handle on her feelings.

All was quiet in the kitchen but a distant clock, ticking away the seconds. And then Bonnie asked, "Why'd you come here?"

"I needed to see it for myself."

"See what?"

"_You_. That you were okay. That you were happy."

"That you made the right choice." She scoffed. "Instead you find me in this _mausoleum _to my old life... And you what, wanted me to know why?"

"I didn't plan this, Bonnie. I missed you. I needed to see you. And when I did, I just... I realized that even if you couldn't remember me, you missed me, too."

"You took three years of my life... You took it away and buried it in this- this second rate fantasy that was never what I wanted. When all you had to do, all you ever had to do, was trust me. _Believe _in me. Know that I would do whatever I could to stay alive and fight and be here. But you got scared, so you do what you _always _do and you _hid_. You ran away from what scared you and made me run, too. But instead of coming with me, instead of building a life together somewhere else, you abandoned me."

Damon stared at the floor, eyes burning. "I know, and I'm sorry."

"That's not enough." She shook her head. "It's not _enough_."

"Tell me what is," he begged. "Tell me what to _do!_"

"It doesn't work like that..." Her voice caught, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "You should go."

He didn't answer, and he didn't leave. He just stood there. Willing her to say something different. To _want _something different.

"Damon... _Please_..."

He nodded and walked to the doorway, but then he stopped and turned around. She wasn't looking at him, having turned around so she didn't have to see him leave.

"You said I ran because I was scared, and you're right. I was terrified. And in true _Damon _fashion, I let that fear make me _stupid_. For three years, I stayed away and I told myself it was the right thing to do. And maybe after all of this, you're better off out here, far away from me. But I'm tired of being afraid, and I'm tired of missing you. I can't make you forgive me. I can't make you hate me any less. And I can't make you come home. But I'm not running anymore."

Bonnie didn't respond, she just kept her back to him, hands braced on the kitchen counter.

Damon could smell the salt of her tears and hear the hitch of her heart, but she wouldn't turn.

So he did. He walked down the hall and out to the car and hoped, this time, that he made the right choice.

* * *

Three weeks.

Much of which Damon spent at the bottom of a bottle, drunk on bourbon and self-hatred. And then Caroline threw the curtains open, told him he was _stinking up the place_, and suggested he pull his head out of his ass. In a weird way, she was just the kick he needed.

He didn't miss Bonnie any less, but at least he didn't look like he'd just been scraped off the road. Which he was particularly glad for when someone knocked at the door, and he swung it open to find her standing on his doorstep, fiddling with the strap of her purse.

Hope burst in his chest-

"I wish I could... _hate_ you."

-then died-

"But I don't."

-and flared again.

"I don't _forgive_ you. Not yet. You hurt me, you didn't _listen _to me, you left me, and I'm not sure how you fix it. I'm not even sure if you can. But... I'm here. So if you could somehow manage _not_ to be a self-righteous dick..."

His mouth kicked up slowly. "I'll work on it."

"Good." She chewed her lip and then nodded her head toward her car. "I need some help with my bags..."

He grinned then.

"It's not forever. Don't get your hopes up or anything."

"Sure..." Damon walked to the back end of the car, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "So, you never did say... You want the left side or the right side of the bed?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes and walked inside, muttering under her breath. But Damon just smiled.

It wasn't perfect, he had a lot to make up for, but it was a start. And this time, he wasn't going to screw it up.


	21. do you feel home?

**prompt**: "I don't know what love is."

* * *

**_are you at peace with every turn (do you feel home)_**

* * *

"So, when are you coming home?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. It seemed like every time she talked to Caroline, she was asked the same question. Sighing, she tucked her phone between her shoulder and her ear while she dug through her purse for her keycard. She'd arrived in Verona two days ago and would be catching a flight elsewhere in only two more. She liked to keep moving, keep touring. Adventure wasn't the same now as it used to be. Life as a tourist felt tetherless, letting her go where she pleased, unrestrained. She had nothing but a full bank account and an endless list of places she wanted to see. Back home, she'd been chained to the roots of a town awash in bloodshed and lacking in kindness or appreciation. Here, she was free.

There were downsides, of course. She was traveling alone, even if she'd met more than a few interesting characters along the way. Men and women that were eager to share her time or her bed or to follow her in whatever direction she went in next. But none were who she wanted them to be. And, if she were honest, the 'who' in question was not who she'd expected. After six months, Enzo's presence started to fade, and as much as it hurt to know that she was letting him go, it was also healing. She'd loved him, but there were moments now, away from it all, that clarity crept in. He was a good man and he'd been there when she needed someone the most. That was part of the problem. She'd been so hurt, so lonely, and so _angry _over someone else, that everything with Enzo had come at a time when she was at her weakest. It didn't make him any less important to her. It just meant that all those feelings of before were becoming all too clear in the aftermath.

"Care, I told you last week that I didn't know. I haven't changed my mind. I still have more I want to do and see."

Caroline sighed, long and loud. "But it's been a _year_…"

"And you're kind of, sort of immortal, so I doubt that makes much of a dent in things." She finally found the key and pulled it out from under the collection of souvenirs she'd picked up that day. "Have you heard from Elena? I keep calling but she hasn't answered. I'm starting to get a little worried."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before, "Um, yeah, she finally picked up… She's settled down at Johns Hopkins and she is _not _a big fan of her dorm roommate. But, she's convinced that it's supposed to be a part of the experience, so she refuses to compel herself a room of her own."

"Wait, dorm room…?" Bonnie pushed inside her hotel room and closed the door with her foot. She kicked her shoes off and dropped a few shopping bags on the floor before shrugging her jacket off and hanging it in the closet. "Why is she in a dorm?"

"Well…" Caroline took a deep breath. "Long story short, she and Damon broke up."

Bonnie paused. "What?"

"Yeah, I guess things just weren't the same after she woke up. She said they really tried to make it work, but they just weren't the same people anymore. I don't even know what that means. But I guess they broke up a few months ago. She seems really happy though, you know? I mean, sucky roommate aside, she really sounds grounded and ready to take on med school."

Bonnie leaned against the wall behind her and kicked a leg out, resting her heel on the carpeted floor and wiggling her toes, staring distantly at the purple polish on her nails. "And Damon?"

"Elena said he was okay with things when it ended. That they were on good terms and he seemed ready to figure out what he really wanted." She made a dismissive noise. "Whatever that means."

Brow furrowed, Bonnie shook her head. "I didn't know they were having issues…"

"Me either. Then again, they were hardly talking to us. I mean, I know we're all busy and spread out now, but…" Her voice tightened, strained with emotion, "I thought, after everything that happened, we'd try to stay in touch, you know?"

Bonnie smiled faintly. "I might be on the other side of the world, but I'm always here for you, Caroline."

"I know… I just wish you weren't so far away. I miss you. Like, a _ton_. And the girls miss you, too."

Pushing off the wall, Bonnie nodded. "Maybe I could visit." Before Caroline could get too excited, she said, "I'm not coming back permanently, I'm not done yet."

"Not done _what?_" Caroline let out a protesting groan. "What are you looking for out there?"

Biting her lip, Bonnie walked down the hallway. Truth be told, she'd been looking for herself. For whoever she was meant to be, since her growth had been stunted over the years, sacrificed for the 'greater good.' After a year of searching, she thought she knew who she was. A strong willed young woman that wanted more than she'd ever been given. A good friend that needed to be clearer about her boundaries. A smart, kind person that gave too much and took too little. But with all her revelations of self, she recognized a gaping hole she was unsure how to fill.

Rather than say that, she asked instead, "Who says I'm looking for something?"

"I'm not going to knock a vacation. If anyone deserves one, it's you. But there's a difference between a few weeks on a sandy beach and a whole year jumping from place to place. I mean… if I didn't know better, I'd think you were running."

Bonnie hugged an arm around herself. "From what?"

"You tell me."

She opened her mouth to argue. To say she wasn't running at all. That there was nothing to run _from_. But just as she did, she stopped. The doors to her balcony were open, gauzy white curtains dancing on a warm breeze. And leaning against the door jamb, his arms crossed, was a familiar figure, even if he was turned away from her, facing the view outside. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

"Bonnie?" Caroline called.

"I… have to go. I'll call you back." Not bothering to wait for a response, Bonnie hung up and then tossed her phone to the end of her bed. "You know, breaking and entering is a crime."

He turned slowly, mouth curled at one corner. "The concierge gave me my own key."

Her eyes narrowed. "You compelled her."

With a shrug, he stared at her, unrepentant. "I like the element of surprise."

She rolled her eyes. "Because you're dramatic."

His grin widened.

Glancing away from him, she lifted her chin and wondered, "What're you doing here?"

"I missed you."

Her shoulders hiked. "Could've called or written or… answered any of my calls. I left you a dozen messages."

"Thirteen." His lips pursed. "I listened to all of them."

"Then you know how pissed I was that you were ignoring me."

He dipped his chin. "I do."

She glared at him. "_And?_"

"And… I suck. We both know this. I'm an idiot and I have a habit of making sure you'll always remember that."

Bonnie scoffed. "That's no excuse."

"You're right. It isn't." He licked his lips. "You want the truth…? I was scared."

"Of what? Of _me?_" She shook her head. "That makes _no _sense!"

"Yeah, well, we already established the fact that I'm an idiot." He pushed off the door and took a step toward her. "After everything happened. After Stefan… And with Elena… I was lost. I— I wanted to be happy. I wanted to think that it was worth it somehow. That if Stefan had to die, it should at least be for a good reason. But I was wrong. Because there was no reason. He shouldn't have died, Bonnie. Least of all for me."

Bonnie shifted her feet. She wanted to reach for him, to soothe him, but if she did, she wasn't sure any of this would get resolved. Not the way it should. "You're right. He didn't deserve that. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve happiness, too."

He stared at her. "I figured that out, eventually."

She frowned. "What happened with you and Elena? You finally had her back. You got what you wanted. So, why are you here?"

His expression softened, hard edges smoothing out. "I used to think that Katherine was what really screwed me up. That if she'd never come along and twisted me up, I would've been some better, nicer version of whatever I turned into. But Katherine was just one link in the chain… If you wanna go back to the very beginning, you'll find a whole baggage cart of daddy issues, then mommy issues. Not the best basis for figuring out any future romantic entanglements…"

Bonnie pursed her lips. "I have my own issues, so I get it. Kind of."

"Look, Bonnie… When we first met, I was a homicidal asshole. Over the years, I curbed some of that. Enough that you don't always want to fry my brain, at least. When we wound up in that prison world, I'd even call us frenemies. Leaning more toward friends on good days." He shrugged. "And by the time we got out, you'd already kicked Ric out of his best friend spot by a mile."

Her mouth twitched.

"The thing is… When I'm with you, I try more. I _expect _more of myself. And when you're not there, I don't always recognize who I am or who I'm becoming and… I _hate _it." He took another step forward. "I hated hurting you when I went into that coffin, but I was scared then too. That I'd screw up and disappoint you somehow. Because somewhere along the line, you became the most important person in my life and I couldn't stand the idea that one day you'd realize what kind of an _idiot_ you were stuck with."

Bonnie shook her head, her arms uncrossing. "Damon…"

"So, I did a _stupid _thing and I ran. I dessicated and I hid and I told myself it was for the better, but I was _wrong_. And when I got out, it was too late. Everything got screwed up and you were with Enzo and Stefan was on the run and… It was just proof that I never make the right choice. _Ever_. But I wanted to. I really did. So even if I didn't think Enzo was worth the gum on your shoe, I tried to accept it. If he made you happy, then that was all that mattered. And then everything with Sybil and Cade happened and it all got twisted up even more. So, when it ended, when Enzo was dead and Stefan was gone and Elena was there, it felt like… like this was the consequence to everything I'd done. It didn't matter how hard I tried or what I did, it was never going to be good enough."

Bonnie stared up at him. "Not everything is your fault. Yes, you've made mistakes, but sometimes all you can do is apologize and try to do better."

"See, you say that, but that's because you want to see the best in people. Even me."

"No, I say that because I _know _you. No matter what you've done, I know that you would trade places with Stefan in a heartbeat if you thought it could bring him back. You _love _your brother, Damon, and he loved you. I don't think he deserved what happened to him, but I understand the choice he made." She searched his eyes. "He believed in you and he wanted you to have a chance at finding your peace."

He swallowed tightly. "I did."

Her brow furrowed. "Caroline said—"

"Elena and I broke up, I know. We did. A few months ago. It was a long time coming." He shook his head. "We were doomed from the start. There was too much baggage there, for both of us. And whatever we were to each other, it wasn't what it was supposed to be."

"What do you mean?"

"We didn't grow when we were together. We were just _stuck_. We forgave each other for things we shouldn't, made excuses for the rest, and stayed in our little rut. But she didn't deserve that… and neither did I."

"What do you deserve then?"

"I've spent a century and a half chasing after people that didn't want me, telling myself that we were meant to be together, only for it to blow up in my face every time. So, maybe I don't know what love is, or maybe I've just been doing it all wrong this whole time. All I really know is that when I'm with you, I grow. I'm a little less of a dick. And I'm _happy_. So, if you're up for it, I thought maybe we could hang out for, you know, _ever_."

Bonnie tipped her head. "That's your pitch?"

He blinked and then nodded slowly. "Hey, I spent a very long flight over here planning that whole thing out."

"And you came up with 'let's hang out'?"

"Yeah, but '_forever_.'" He rolled his eyes. "I'm not suggesting Chuck E. Cheese here, Bon."

Her lips twitched. "You weren't exactly specific."

"You keep me on my toes, you know that?"

"Someone has to." She took a step forward just as he did, until they were toe to toe. "And you have thirteen unanswered calls to make up for. I'm not forgetting about that anytime soon."

"I like it when you hold me accountable for my terrible decisions." He reached for her hand, their fingers tangling. "I thought if I talked to you, I'd end up shirking all responsibility and hopping on a plane."

Humming, she reached up and played with a button on his shirt, tugging at it as she tipped her head up to meet his eyes. "Looks like it happened anyway."

"Yeah, but you'll be proud to know I did things right. Elena and I are squared away. No messy feelings to figure out."

"Yeah? So, what've you been doing for the last three months then?"

He tugged on her hand, drawing her in until their stomachs met. "Well, you'll be disappointed to know I found myself another witch. She's got a few years on you and she's not my biggest fan, but she's got a line on a way to bring Stefan back from whatever heaven or hell he's floating around in right now. It's not a guarantee, but it's a chance, and I seem to remember a judgy little witch trying to drill the importance of hope into me once or twice."

Bonnie smiled. "Good."

Hooking an arm around her waist, he bent his head and met her steady gaze. "We can take it slow. Coffee or lunch or dancing and dinner. I can serendipitously meet you in whatever place you're headed next. We can spend a few weeks or months or years mapping out the world, together. Whatever you want."

She pressed her hand flat against his chest, over an unbeating heart, and smiled. "Whatever _we _want. If we're going to do this, we figure it out together."

He nodded. "I like the sound of that."

Bonnie slid an arm around his neck in the same moment his mouth slanted over hers. A shiver started at the top of her head and fell in waves down her body, ending at the tips of her toes. A flood of awareness and anticipation warmed her from the inside out. And a little piece of her, that had tried so hard to stamp out any feelings she had for him, grew thankfully quiet. Because here, now, it felt right. It felt expected and wanted and was exactly what she'd been missing.

When they parted, she told him, "You make me happy, too."

He grinned goofily. "So, where to next?"

With a hum, she told him, "I rented this room for the next two days. So, dinner and dancing is a good start."

"And then?"

Content, she told him, "_Home_."

* * *

**...**

* * *

_thank you so much for reading! please try to leave a review! they're a huge motivation!_


	22. who needs a parachute

**prompt #1**: one of the gang catches bamon in an intimate moment - _anonymous_ (**Tumblr**)  
**prompt #2**: "we need to talk" -** 50 sentence collection**

* * *

**rating**: mature  
**warning(s)**: explicit sexual content  
**timeframe**: set in season 6

* * *

_**who needs a parachute (when i've got you)**_

* * *

They're tearing at each other's clothes in a frenzy. Bonnie pulls on his shirt until the buttons pop off, scattering over the floor. Damon's hands pull at the neckline of her shirt until it stretches, leaving her shoulders and upper chest bare while the fabric hangs limp at her elbows. Her hands sweep over his chest and stomach, before sliding up his sides and around to his back, fingers pressed tight to invite him closer. His mouth peppers biting kisses over her shoulders, mouth dragging down her chest to suck at the tops of her breasts.

Damon undoes her jeans and pushes them down as she shimmies her hips, but he leaves them there, ringing her thighs, while his palm rubs soothingly over her tummy, teasing her before his fingers finally tuck into the lace of her panties and sink down, curving up to cup her, wet and warm. She lets out a huff of a breath, a whine from her throat, and her nails tear at his back. He nips at her breast, draws a single drop of blood, and licks it up. Her entire body shivers in reply. She looks down at him, her eyes at half-mast, heavy and dark with _want_. He leans up and takes her mouth, lips slanting, teeth biting, and he strokes his fingers along her slit, parting her, flicking her clit just enough to make her grunt, lifting up onto the tips of her toes.

She brings her hands up and strips his shirt down his arms, releasing one while the other still works diligently between her thighs. His shirt hangs off his wrist, but neither of them care. She unbuckles his belt and tears open his pants; in the same moment, he drags her bra down under her breasts, his mouth falling to wrap around a beaded brown nipple. She exhales sharply, her hand furling in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping at his skin. His fingers have slid inside her, slick and slow, thumb periodically rubbing her clit. Her head falls back against the wall with a clunk and she closes her eyes, struggling to focus on his wet mouth, licking and nipping at her breast, and his fingers bringing her closer and closer to—

A throat clears, loud like thunder, and her eyes break open abruptly.

Damon goes still, but doesn't remove himself from her. He keeps his head down and asks, "Is that who I think it is?"

She glares at him, but he only smirks back. Still, after a glance behind him, he steps in front of her, covering her, as if she has any shred of modesty left. He reaches for her jeans and pulls them up, zips and buttons them closed before giving her hips an affectionate pat, while she pulls her bra back into place and tries to get her shirt to sit in a way that doesn't leave her feeling exposed.

She appreciates that when Damon steps out of the way, Stefan has purposely turned his head away to give her some semblance of privacy, a finger scratching at one of his temples as he clears his throat once more.

Bonnie's cheeks are flushed, she feels them so distinctly that she wants to cover them with her hands.

"Just felt like a peep show, brother?" Damon puts on an act of nonchalance as he moves toward the liquor table, pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

"Wasn't expecting one in my own home." Stefan sighs, looking between them, brow furrowed. He steps into the room, makes his way over to the couch, and takes a seat, making a show of staying.

Bonnie frowns and eyes the door; the drive to flee is strong. She can head back to her apartment across town and avoid Stefan for the foreseeable future. Maybe not the most thought out plan, but still something she's willing to try. She's not even sure why they're doing this at the boarding house when her apartment is empty, with little chance of anyone they knew walking in on them. It started out innocently enough. Every once in a while, she convinces herself she and Damon can just be friends. Uncross that line they crossed a long time ago and go back to the bickering besties they once were. And then something happens, one of them does or say something, and the next thing she knows she's in his bed. Or his shower or on his desk or pressed against a wall.

Before she can make a break for it, Damon hands her a glass of water, so cold the glass almost burns her fingers, and she wonders if he ran into the kitchen while she was thinking of ways to escape. It's too bad her powers don't let her apparate; she blames Harry Potter for leftover falsehoods about being a witch. Then again, she can't imagine Hermione Granger ever getting herself into a situation like this. She would've picked Jeremy where Bonnie instead went for the dark horse. _Ugh_. She seriously needs to stop her week-long Harry Potter marathon with Caroline; it's messing with her head.

Sipping at her water, Bonnie holds the glass with both hands, fidgeting and rocking on her heels. She wants to tell them this is probably a conversation she doesn't need to be here for. Sure, it involves her, but she knows it's really more a matter of Stefan trying to rein in his wayward brother. In his eyes, Bonnie is just another notch on Damon's bedpost, one that will be sorely disappointed when he doesn't shape up and become the perfect boyfriend she can tote around and show off to her friends. Friends who would probably be completely shocked to find her and Damon had formed a friendship, let alone are sleeping together. A lot can happen after four months spent alone and another six months being the only one who understands how that feels.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Stefan finally asks. "Do _either _of you?" He turns to add Bonnie into the conversation and she really wishes she would've run when she had the chance.

"You know, I thought I missed that judgemental tone of yours, but it turns out _I didn't_." Damon takes a seat in the arm chair across from him.

Bonnie still hovers on the outskirts, silent.

"Damon… You've done some stupid things in the past. Dangerous, reckless, _stupid _things. And somehow you always come back from them. Don't ask me how, because there've been a few scrapes even _we _couldn't have helped you out of. But _this_…" He looks between them. "If this blows up, it's going to take out the whole group."

"Who says it'll blow up?" Damon asks sourly, taking a sip of his bourbon.

Stefan sighs at him, an arched eyebrow asking, _'Really?_' Aloud, he says, "I understand that you went through something over there that we can't comprehend, no matter how hard we try. I know you're both hurting because of Elena and Jeremy. But this… You need comfort, and you're familiar, but there are too many people this will be hurt when—"

"When what?" Damon's voice is granite, hard and unforgiving. "When I throw her away, break her heart? _What_, Stefan?"

Stefan stares at him a long moment, shifting his chin around. "Yes," he finally says, quiet but serious.

Damon scoffs. "Who says I'd be the one hurting her anyway? Where's _that _written? How do you know _she's _not just using _me_?"

Stefan blinks at him.

So does Bonnie. "What?"

Damon rolls his eyes. "You know, I'm getting really tired of playing the bad guy. We've all done screwed up things. Sure, me more than others. But, you two have both had your dark streaks, you don't see me throwing that in your face."

"You throw it in my face all the time," Stefan muttered.

"Technicalities," Damon dismisses. "Anyway, that's not the point. Am I sleeping with Bonnie? _Yes_. Is it because she understands what it was like over there? _Yes_. Is that the only reason? _No_. Does it have anything to do with Elena? _No_. Anything to do with anybody _except _Bonnie? _No_." He glares at his brother. "She's an adult, I'm an adult, we don't need your permission. So, if we want to fuck like bunnies without apology, we will. And if that happens to have _feelings _attached, it will. But, I don't need to explain myself to you. _So_, if you'll excuse us, we need to finish something."

Stefan opens his mouth— to argue, to question— but Damon flashes across the room, grabs Bonnie around the waist, and races up the stairs, his bedroom door snapping closed behind them.

She bounces where he drops her on the bed, her head a little fuzzy. She has more than a few questions herself. "Damon?"

She turns over so she's on her knees, her hands on her denim-clad thighs, and looks up at him as he stalks through his room, tearing off his shirt and discarding his pants. His face is twisted up in that way that tells her he's lost in his head, likely repeating the whole argument, going over everything that was said, that he disagrees with, and taking it as a personal insult.

For a moment, he ignores her, too lost in his thoughts. Eventually though, he comes around to stand in front of her. He says nothing, instead reaching down to draw her misshapen shirt up and off her. She stretches her arms up to help and leans forward as he reaches around to undo her bra as well. He takes both and tosses them in the direction of his laundry basket. Her jeans are next, along with her panties; both are dragged down her legs and thrown away. She sits in front of him then, naked and a little confused. Her confusion only grows when he grabs a t-shirt out of his dresser and tosses it over. Not expecting it, it hits her face and falls to the bed in a heap. With a roll of her eyes, she pulls it on. The shirt is a little long on her, pooling in her lap. She plays with the fabric, absently picking at it.

He pulls on a pair of pajama pants that hang loose on his hips before coming back to climb into bed, laying against the pillows and giving the back of her shirt a tug. She takes the hint and turns over, crawling up the bed to lay down beside him as his arm gathers her in close. While his hand rubs her shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"You okay?" he wonders.

She bites her lip before telling him, "I think we need to talk."

Damon's fingers still on her shoulder. "Nothing good's ever come out of those words…"

She looks up at him. "What you said to Stefan, did you mean that?"

"Do I ever say anything I don't mean?"

She snorts. "Seriously? _Yes._ Especially when you're annoyed. Your default setting is to say whatever will bother people the most. True or not."

He sighs. "Fine. But this wasn't one of those times." His fingers drew circles on her arm, skimming under the end of the sleeve. "Is it so hard to believe I like you?"

Her eyes fell for a moment, staring at his chin. "I don't know."

Brow furrowed, he shakes his head a little. "Your teeter-totter of self-esteem never fails to confuse me."

She glares up at him and shoves a hand against his chest. "Hey!"

"You're the strongest witch to ever walk the earth, always ready to wipe out whatever bad guy looks at you wrong, but add a little romance to the mix and you can't spook fast enough."

Pushing herself up to sit, crossed-legged, she fiddles with the end of the shirt for something to focus on. "I don't know if you've noticed, but my romantic history isn't exactly a shining example of 'healthy and loyal.'"

Damon snorts. "And mine is?"

Her lips purse. "No. But…" She shakes her head. "You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me."

"You don't give up. Even after everything that's happened. Everything that's gone wrong. You still believe in love and forever. You might play the jaded anti-hero well, but we both know that half your motivation for anything you do is for 'love.'"

Damon stares at her. "You know, I'd think that would work in my favor… You've been screwed over by jerks in the past. Between Jeremy and the creepy professor, you've had your fair share of love interests that wanted someone else. I know what it feels like. Which means that when I'm with you, I'm _with _you."

"Are you though?" Bonnie drags her gaze up to meet his. "Let's face it, before the prison world, we were just scraping by as friends. Maybe Stefan's right. Maybe it's just easier to be together because we understand what we've been through, what it was like over there. And right now, Elena doesn't remember you or your relationship, and you're not sure she ever will again, so it makes sense to—"

"To _what_? How is sleeping with her best friend going to win me any points if she ever ends up remembering? You think we'll bond over this? Or maybe she'll just sweep it under the rug like some little indiscretion?"

"Why wouldn't she? She sweeps everything else under there!" Bonnie's chin tilts defiantly. "Your whole relationship is you two justifying whatever you've done wrong or pretending it never happened. Putting your love for each other over everything and everyone else. So, who says that won't happen here, too?"

"There's a couple flaws in your logic, Bon-Bon."

She crosses her arms. "Like?"

"One, you just made a pretty good argument for why Elena and I were never going to work out in the long run. You can only live in a state of denial for so long. And yeah, we made a good run of it, but maybe that's the point. Maybe the prison world was a nice, big, much-needed dose of reality."

Before Bonnie can interrupt, clearly not sure she believes _that_, Damon continues—

"And two, love isn't half my motivation. It's _all _of my motivation. With the occasional revenge-driven plot thrown in to spice things up. I might half-ass a lot of things, but the one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that when I love someone, you're right, I'll turn the whole world inside out for them. Which is why I'm not chasing after every witchdoctor around that might have a cure to Elena's memory loss. Instead, I'm here. I've _been _here. For six months, I've spent every waking moment with the most stubborn woman alive, and it has absolutely _nothing _to do with _Elena_."

Bonnie takes a deep breath, but she isn't sure what she wants to say. She's not even sure she's hearing him right. Because this whole time, despite everything they've been doing, a part of her has been so convinced that eventually it was going to end. Eventually, Elena will step back into her _rightful _place at his side. That Bonnie never considered the possibility that she might _not_. That Damon didn't _want _her to.

"So, this whole time…?"

"I told you, you spook easy. Every time I tried to take this public, you came up with reasons not to. You're the one closing the door on things, Bon. Not me."

Her brow furrows. "Why didn't you just _say _that?"

Sighing, he admits, "In my experience, telling a woman I have feelings for them usually ends badly for me."

"Yeah, well, in your experience, most of those women were dating Stefan."

He snorts. "Point taken. But that didn't make it easier."

Bonnie shakes her head. "Stefan wasn't wrong though, about this affecting the group… If Elena ever does remember, even if you don't want to be with her, how is she going to feel about this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Damon…" She purses her lips. "Elena's my best friend. One of them, anyway."

"Then she should be happy for you." He shrugs. "I know what I want. So, the ball's in your court. Pull the chute or trust I'll catch you."

She cocks her head. "Did I jump out of a plane recently?"

"Yep, and the ground's coming up quick."

"So, I'm just supposed to trust that you're going to be there, _always_? Ready to catch me, no matter what."

He half-smiles. "If you give me a chance, I can prove it."

Bonnie bites her lip. "You know what you're asking for here, right? I'm a judgy, stubborn person that will risk life and limb to save everybody she loves."

"And I'm a snarky asshole that will pull you back from the edge when you walk a little too close. This can work." He holds a hand out to her. "Trust me."

Her gaze falls to his outstretched hand, and even though that fear and insecurity is still there, there's relief when her hand meets his. He pulls, drawing her up against his side. Her head lands on his shoulder and she tips it back to look at him. "It's mutual, you know? I can catch you, too."

His lips stretch into a grin. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

**...**

* * *

Damon is up early, puttering around the kitchen and putting together a breakfast fit for a queen, when the door swings open, admitting Stefan. "Don't tell me you got up early just to lecture me. 'Cause I'm not interested in version 2.0 of last night's less than stellar conversation…"

"No." Stefan shakes his head and walks deeper into the kitchen. "Actually, I'm here to apologize."

Damon pauses before continuing to transfer the freshly scrambled eggs onto a plate. "Really?"

"I overstepped last night. I made a lot of assumptions and I shouldn't have. The truth is, you've changed a lot since you came back. And I changed a lot when you were… gone." Stefan tucks his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugs awkwardly. "What I said about it blowing up, I think that was more about me than you."

"You and Carebear on the rocks?"

Stefan sighs. "I pushed her away when I should've been doing the opposite. And I think when I saw you and Bonnie were headed in a similar direction, I might've lashed out. It's _possible_… I might've even been jealous."

"Jealous?"

"You took the leap while I… choked."

"Happens to the best of us. I hear they have a pill for that now…"

Stefan rolls his eyes. "_Anyway_… The truth is, maybe you and Bonnie really can make it work. In a strange way, you make sense. Either way, I shouldn't have let my personal problems seep into this. So, I'm sorry that I pre-judged things."

Damon nods. "It's fine. Might've even helped."

Stefan's brows arch. "Really?"

"We needed to talk things out, figure out what we were, and your ill-timed interruption made that happen. So, _kudos_." He raises the plate, overflowing with food, and grins. "If it wasn't for you, my sexy best friend-with-benefits might not be my girlfriend."

Stefan half-smiles. "I'm glad. Seriously."

"Me, too." Making his way to the kitchen door, he looks back. "You should give it a try."

Stefan turns to face him. "What's that?"

"Talking it out. I'm sure Caroline would like to hear you've had a change of heart."

"I'm not sure she would… I've made a pretty big mess of things."

"Only one way to find out." He winks before pushing through the door, leaving Stefan to figure out his love life on his own.

Damon whistles as he climbs the stairs and makes his way to his room.

Bonnie's awake and yawning when he steps inside, an arm tucked behind her head. "Hey," she says, her voice soft and warm.

He'd be lying if he said this wasn't what he'd been waiting for. It's been a back and forth of wanting, having, but not quite enough. But now that they've crossed that all important threshold, they've got nothing but good things ahead. Likely peppered with mortal danger. But, they can handle that. They always have.

"Hey, sleepyhead…" He drops the plate down on the bedside table and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his hand finding and squeezing her far hip. "Like the amazing boyfriend I am, I made you breakfast in bed."

She hums. "I see that."

"I know it's early still, but…" He brushes a loose wave of hair back from her face. "Any regrets?"

With a hum, she shakes her head. Taking his shirt between her fingers, she draws him toward her. "None for me. How about you?"

He smiles. "I'm pretty happy with how things are going so far."

"Yeah?"

"_Yeah_."

As the tips of their noses brush together, she says, "Lock the door—" He's gone and back in a flash. She grins. "No more interruptions."

Damon nods before rolling them across the bed until she's perched above, seated in his lap. "I like the way you think."

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Bonnie takes his hands, pins them to the bed, and leans down to meet his lips.

If, later, Damon invests in a 'Do Not Disturb' sign that he occasionally hangs on the handle of the front door, no one of them can really say they're all that surprised.

* * *

**...**

* * *

_thank you so much for reading! please try to leave a review! they're a huge motivation!_


End file.
